Fatherhood: A Guide
by Loony4moony816
Summary: Or, How Noah Puckerman and Blaine Anderson Survive Being Husbands, Stay-at-home Dads, and Badass New Yorkers. Future kid!fic. Puck/Kurt, Blaine/?, Puck/Blaine friendship
1. Chapter 1

Noah Puckerman couldn't really complain about his life. Not to say that he didn't, because he definitely did. Just ask his husband. Kurt could (and _would_) provide tales of Puck's whining upon request. But, all in all, he didn't really have any _right_ to complain. He was thirty-two years old, living in the best city in the world (Okay, so he was living in Brooklyn, but the city is all five boroughs and Brooklyn had a _ton_ more Jews anyway), his body was as hot as ever, and his husband wasn't that much of a bitch most of the time.

By anyone else's standards, Puck had it made. He tried to remember this sentiment as his five-year old daughter ran into the bathroom he was currently taking a shower in and screamed, "Daddy has a small penis! Daddy has a small penis!" before running out, leaving the door wide open. Puck took a moment to wallow in self-pity as he heard his husband's maniacal laughter echo down the hallway.

* * *

"We really have to get that lock on the bathroom door fixed." Puck was drying himself off in the bedroom him and Kurt shared as the latter lounged in bed, flipping through an interior design magazine. "Ziva is going to be scarred at some point."

Kurt scoffed. Without looking up from his magazine, he adjusted his glasses, "What you actually mean is, at some point you're going to give in to your inner toddler and yell back something along the lines of "Yeah, well, at least I'm not a midget!" and then Ziva will come ask me what a midget is and I'll have to tell her, which will make her cry and lead her to having body image issues at the ripe old age of five. Congratulations, you're a horrible father."

Puck snorted, "You got all of that from a broken lock?" Kurt smiled and tossed aside the magazine. He crawled suggestively across the bed and met his boxer-clad husband at the edge. "No, I got that from knowing you for twenty-five years," he said against Puck's lips, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Puck didn't resist, planting kisses along Kurt's jaw line, savoring the stubble, "It's Saturday and you don't have work. I'm hot, you're hot." Kurt laughed softly. "I _love_ your glasses. We can play librarian and naughty student."

"Again, you mean," Kurt ran his hands up and down Puck's chest, "Or did you forget the last time?"

"Yeah, as if I could forget the last time." Puck was going to town on Kurt's collar bone, "I still have the scars on my ass from that ruler, babe."

"What can I say, I'm a great actor." Puck growled and pushed his husband on the bed, laying on top of him and starting a make-out session that his teenaged self would be proud of. Kurt grunted back and proceeded to roll them over in a surprising show of strength. Puck thanked his usual deities as Kurt straddled his hips and threw off his own shirt, before bringing their lips together again. Puck groaned at the feel of skin on skin and started playing with Kurt's nipples before the door to their bedroom flew open.

"Daddy, Papa! Breakfast is ready! I put the Pop-Tarts in the toaster all by myself, except the toaster wasn't working, so I put them in the microwave instead." Puck and Kurt shared a panicked look, even as their lips were still connected. "They blew up a little, but they still taste good." Kurt detached his lips with a smack and buried his face into Puck's neck, groaning. This wasn't the first time Ziva took breakfast matters into her own hands.

Puck ran a sympathetic hand through Kurt's hair, before Kurt sat up. Puck moaned a little, the action brought Kurt's ass right on top of his half-hard dick. "Ziva Elizabeth Hummel-Puckerman, what have your daddy and I told you about playing in the kitchen without one of us there?"

"But Papa, I wasn't playing! I was cooking!"

"Ziva." Kurt's voice had that warning tone that usually heralded Ziva's (and Puck's) punishment. Evidently, their little girl recognized it, because she bowed her head and apologized. "Sorry, Papa."

Kurt sighed, "If you weren't so much like your father, I would actually believe you." Puck grinned before forcing his face into one of disappointment for Ziva's benefit. Damn, sometimes it was hard raising such a badass. "Go into the kitchen and wait for me. I'll clean up and make you breakfast, okay?"

"Okay, Papa!" She turned and ran down the hall, but not before slamming the door behind her.

Kurt and Puck winced at the rattling of the doorframe. The limestone townhouse was a hundred and four years old, not exactly toddler proof. "We have to teach her not to slam doors."

Puck snorted, "Okay, I'll add that to the list of tasks. Right under 'Don't run into the bathroom while someone's in there' and 'Don't interrupt role-playing sex'." He shook his head ruefully as Kurt's pale chest disappeared under his replaced pajama shirt, "No one ever warned us that kids would seriously screw up our sex life."

Kurt, who was halfway out the door already, turned to him with an unreadable expression on his face. "What?"

Kurt ignored him and calmly walked over to their bookshelf, "Nothing, nothing. You just confirmed that you didn't read that parenting book I gave you when Ziva was conceived, no big deal."

Puck sat up quickly, trying to school his features into ones of moral outrage, rather than the shame he actually felt, "What? I totally did!"

Kurt made a non-committal noise as he took the aforementioned book off the shelf and flipped through before settling on a page. He tossed the book on the bed near where Puck was sitting before sauntering off down the hall, hips swaying. Puck took a moment to appreciate the beauty that was Kurt's ass before picking up the book. Reading the title, he groaned and threw himself back against the pillows.

_Chapter Four: How Kids Can (And Will!) Ruin Your Sex Life_

_

* * *

_

Puck's ideal life was, in his own words, fucked to hell that Monday. He was in the living room, cleaning after Ziva's adventures in world of glitter crafts when he heard a key in the front door, signaling his husband's arrival. He wasn't the only occupant of the house that had heard the noise, however.

"Daddy, Papa's home!" Ziva ran out of the living room, through the dining room and into the front hallway, black curls bouncing, screaming the entire way. "Papa!" she shrieked as she flew into his arms. Kurt, expectant of this (or, in Puck's opinion, not _deaf_ and heard his daughter's announcement), caught her and placed a kiss on her cheek, "Hi, sweetheart, how are you today?"

Puck shook his head as he lifted himself off the floor and made his way to his family. He could never get over how Kurt insisted on speaking to their five-year old as an adult. Not to say that Kurt didn't force him to do that same. Puck heard time and time again the advantages that speaking normally to a toddler had for vocabulary and diction. Puck's mom talked to him like he was a moron until he was fourteen and he turned out perfectly fine!

"I'm good. Daddy and I made pictures for my homework! I added something special, I bet you can't guess what it is!"

Puck laughed at his husband's face. Kurt raised his eyebrows, taking in the sight of his daughter fully. "I have _no_ idea," he replied, setting her down. "But I'm going to wager a guess. Glitter?" Puck's laughter grew louder when he saw Ziva's eyes widen.

"How'd you guess?" She shrieked, her voice contributing Puck's already forming headache.

Kurt lowered himself to her level to place a kiss on her nose, causing her to giggle. "Honey, you're covered in yellow glitter. I approve, of course, but you're getting it all over the place. How about you run to the bathroom and I'll help you wash up for dinner. Deal?"

"Deal." She nodded resolutely and took determined steps to the bathroom, glitter falling with every step.

Puck chuckled, "At least we'll be able to track it down if she decided to play 'Hide the Toilet Paper' again."

"Ah, my favorite game." Kurt kissed Puck chastely and the latter revealed in the taste of stale coffee, "How are you doing today?"

"Fine," Puck shrugged, it was like every other weekday, really. He walked Ziva to pre-school and, in the four hours she was there, ran some errands on Fifth Avenue. Pretty normal for Park Slope residents. After picking Ziva back up from school, he laid her down for a nap and enjoyed the hour of peace by reading the newspaper (Shut up) and starting dinner (shut up). When Ziva woke up, refreshed from her nap, she insisted that he helped her do her homework. Nothing new. Puck knew what to expect when they decided that Kurt would be the one working.

"Well, I have exciting news," Kurt replied, taking off his messenger bag and unbuttoning his coat.

"You hired a babysitter and rented a motel room for the night?" Puck did not get his role-play sex over the weekend and one blowjob wasn't nearly enough to make up for it.

"No." Puck deflated. It wasn't that he was _surprised_, but it still would have been nice. "The new neighbors are finally moving in tomorrow!"

The house to which theirs was fully attached had remained vacant for seven months now. The previous owners moved to Virginia, leaving the For Sale sign in their wake. It took a couple of months, but soon the sign was replaced by the ever-present SOLD declaration. That was two months ago. It seemed that the newcomers were finally going to grace the neighborhood with their presence.

"Fucking finally." Kurt slapped his shoulder lightly at Puck's use of profanity, "What? She can't hear from down the hall!" Ziva had, thankfully, not inherited either of their bat-like hearing. Sometimes, her fathers feared that she was going deaf. Her pediatrician quelled their fears by offering his personal opinion that she developed a premature case of Teenaged Selective Hearing. Puck shuddered at the thought of his daughter's teenaged years. They were going to be so _screwed_.

"If you don't kick the habit completely, you're going to slip in front of her. And I don't want to be one of those parents that gets called down to their kid's school because she introduced her classmates to hooker words." Puck grinned at the mental image and only stopped when Kurt smacked him harder.

"Sorry, sorry." He wasn't, but Kurt didn't need to know that. Although, from his face, Kurt probably did, "How'd you find out about them anyway?"

Kurt took off his boots and made his way into the kitchen, presumably to get in a quick taste of dinner, "Mrs. Denali caught me on my way out of the subway." Puck nodded, the neighborhood gossip queen lived to spread the word.

"Did you get any more info from that old bat?" Kurt's lips twisted in an effort to suppress his smile.

* * *

"Don't call her that," he chastised. "And, no. I have no idea if it's an old man or a huge family. We're going in blind."

Puck sighed. Kurt kissed his cheek in sympathy and went to help Ziva de-glitter herself. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

The next morning, Kurt left a note for Puck on the bathroom mirror.

_Morning Sexy,_

_Just wanted to tell you that I baked a cake for the new neighbors. It's cooling on the counter. Could you frost it with the cream I left in the fridge? Keep it in a cool place so it'll set and resist all urges to taste it. I know you, Noah Puckerman. Don't leave a pock hole in the cake, ok? I'll be home at five and we can take the cake over together then. Have a great day!_

_Love, _

_Kurt_

Puck had no time to even think about tasting the cake. He'd woken up late that morning and he and Ziva barely made it to her school on time. He came home after dropping her off and frosted the cake to the best of his ability. Kurt wouldn't approve, but he had ridiculous standards anyway. After placing the cake in the fridge, he went to the window and tried to scope out the new neighbors. The street was disappointingly bereft of moving vans.

_More fucking waiting. Damn it._

By the time Puck picked up his daughter and returned home, there was still no sign of moving vans. Puck put down Ziva for her nap and went to start dinner. He took advantage of the island in the kitchen and made pizza dough. The dough was rising nicely when Ziva bounded out of bed and ran into her daddy's legs. She giggled when Puck bent down to pick her up and placed her on the newly cleaned countertop.

"What's up, short stuff?"

Ziva's features transformed into those of serious contemplation. Puck smiled as Kurt's familiar expression took over his daughter's face. Ziva's biological father was still a mystery, but Puck was convinced that Kurt's sperm was the winner in the fertilization race ("You do realize you're speaking out loud, right?" Kurt had said when Puck voiced his opinion in an identical manner). Kurt believed that her dark green eyes were a mixture of Puck's hazel and their surrogate's brown ones. Puck had the same opinion about Kurt's eyes.

Puck was knocked out of his thoughts when Ziva began speaking, "Well, today was boring because Sophie wasn't there and Danny was mad at me for laughing at his picture, but it wasn't pretty and he didn't color inside of the lines! So at playtime, I tried to talk to Samantha, but she's shy and didn't talk, but she played catch with me and then Ricky brought _his_ ball so we started…" Puck was in awe of how much his kid could actually talk without pausing to take in air. Her lungs were huge and if that wasn't enough proof that Kurt Hummel sired this creature, he didn't know what was.

Nodding along and providing appropriate reaction noises in all the right places, Puck began making the sauce for the pizza. He smiled as Ziva stole a slice of tomato from the cutting board and shoved it in her mouth, pausing very briefly in her diatribe against sidewalk chalk to do so. She continued to talk non-stop for an hour and Puck took great pleasure in hanging out with his favorite girl. They were rolling out the dough together when the familiar sound of a key in a lock sent Ziva into frenzy. Again.

Puck swore under his breath when he saw that, like yesterday, his daughter blazed her own trail, this time with flour. Whatever, it was Kurt's turn to clean anyway. From the other room he could hear Ziva informing Kurt of their menu for tonight. Kurt was flipping through the mail as his walked in with Ziva still talking behind him.

"Hey, babe. Excited for pizza?"

"Hm?" Kurt looked up from the pile of mail and smiled distractedly, "Oh, yes, so excited for carbs to go straight to my thighs."

"Oh, shut up. You haven't gained a pound since you graduated college." Puck rolled his eyes as Kurt came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Puck's apron-clad waist, "I like the apron, love. Very domestic," Kurt bit Puck's earlobe, leading him to moan and grip the dough extra hard.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Hummel."

"Who says I can't finish? Tonight? After Ziva goes to sleep?" Puck groaned.

"_Yes_. God, it's been forever." Kurt snorted and kissed his neck.

"It's been a week. You're such a baby."

Ziva took offense on her daddy's behalf, "Papa, don't call Daddy names! That's not nice!"

Kurt laughed, "You're right. I'm sorry, Noah." Ziva seemed satisfied and ran up the stairs, presumably to her room.

"It's your turn to clean up after her, Hummel," Puck commented.

Kurt hummed in agreement as he picked up a mushroom slice off the cutting board. "Okay, fair. Have you caught a glimpse of the new neighbors yet?" he asked before biting into the mushroom.

Puck turned to him, "No, they didn't show up yet."

Kurt looked puzzled, "The moving van is outside." Puck dropped the ladle he was using to spread the sauce and, in a perfect imitation of Ziva, ran to the window of the living room, "Holy shit, they're here!"

Kurt walked calmly to him, "Yes. Do you want to bring over the cake now?" From Kurt's slow speech, it was clear to Puck that he didn't understand Puck's excitement.

"_Fuck_ yes. We've been waiting forever, babe. Time to find out if our new neighbors are yuppies or pedophiles." Kurt choked on the piece of celery he was munching on.

"_Nice_, Noah. Try to be _nice_."

"What's a pee-do-file?" Kurt and Puck jumped at the sound of their daughter, who was standing in between them and looking up with a curious face. The men traded looks, _she moves like a freaking ninja!_ Once her question registered past the shock, Kurt's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Great, you've taught our daughter a pleasant new word." Puck winced, all hopes of getting laid tonight flying out the window as he observed Kurt's hands on his hips.

"Ziva, don't say that word. It's a daddy word, okay?" The small girl shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay. But can we see the new neighbors now?"

"Sure, short stuff. Want to get the cake, Kurt?" Kurt was already on his way into the kitchen. Puck gestured to the refrigerator at Kurt's questioning glance.

"Noah, this is unacceptable! How many times do I have to tell you that you need a crumb layer first and then the final one?" Puck looked at the cake and had to agree with his husband, it looked Ziva had frosted it.

"Sorry, babe, you know I suck at this." Kurt glared at him as if to say, _Not an excuse._

"Daddy sucks, Daddy sucks!" their daughter chanted while dancing around the island. Kurt sent Puck a wide grin and raised one eyebrow.

Puck grumbled, "Keep smiling like that, Hummel, and I won't anymore." Kurt laughed and grabbed a spatula from a drawer.

"I'm going to touch up the cake. Take Lady Gaga over there—" he motioned to Ziva, who was wiggling her butt in time to her new favorite tune, "—and go next door. I'll be there in five minutes."

Puck kissed him on the lips quickly, "Thanks, babe." He turned to his daughter, "Come on, short stuff. Let's meet the new meat."

Ziva threw her hands in the air, "Yay! Race you there, Daddy!" She ran out the door, leaving Puck to race after her. He could hear Kurt yelling after them, "You are thirty-two years old, Noah! She's five! Respect the age difference!" Puck snorted, _As if_.

Ziva ran down the stone steps that made their front stoop. She was halted in her sprint, however, when she struggled to open the forged-iron gate. Puck came up behind her and opened the latch himself. "Thanks, Daddy!" she yelled as she ran up an identical stoop of the townhouse next door. Puck chuckled as he watched her jump and attempt to ring the doorbell in vain.

"There's a reason I call you short stuff, you know." Ziva scowled as he made his way up the steps and pressed the doorbell with ease. "Smile, unless you want them to think you're a monkey." Ziva giggled.

"Dad-dy! I don't look like a monkey!" Puck ruffled her hair.

"You're right." He smiled mischievously, "You look like bear."

"Daddy!" Her protest was halted by the opening of the door, "Hi!"

Puck looked from his daughter to the figure that had opened the door. He watched the figure's eyes widen in recognition and knew their shocked face mirrored his own.

"Puck?"

It was Blaine Anderson.

Puck stood, shell-shocked for a second, before kneeling down and grabbing his daughter. She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulders and fled down the stoop. He ran into his house, slamming the door behind him.

Kurt hurried to him, perfectly frosted cake in hand, "What's wrong?"

Ziva yelled from her place on Puck's shoulder, "Our neighbor is a pee-do-phile!"

"_What?_"

Puck ignored his husband's cry of disbelief, "Kurt, start packing. We're moving to Jersey."

Kurt's face reflected absolute bewilderment, "What? What are you talking ab—" The doorbell rang. Puck sent Kurt a panicked look, shaking his head wildly.

Unsurprisingly, Kurt ignored him. He strode past his still-flailing husband and opened the door, "_Blaine?_ Oh my God! Noah, it's Blaine!"

Puck muttered under his breath as he placed Ziva on the floor, "Yeah, like I didn't know." Turning to the shorter man, he mumbled, "What's up?"

Blaine, who had not lost any of his charm (Or his hair, much to Puck's chagrin), smiled at him, a knowing twinkle in his eye, "Nothing much. Just running after the elusive next door neighbor." Puck, to his credit, had enough sense to blush in shame.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Kurt sent him a glare from behind Blaine's shoulder. He smiled, though, when Blaine turned back to him.

"How crazy is this?"

Kurt nearly bounced in agreement, "Right? This is amazing!" Puck mimed retching behind Blaine's back that lead Ziva to giggle. Kurt gave him a warning glare, before continuing, "Is it just you or—"

Blaine gasped, "Oh crap. I was so shocked at seeing Puck that I forgot Xander!"

"Xander?"

"My son," Blaine replied to Kurt's question. "He's six and way too young for me to have forgotten him, I have to go."

Kurt looked delighted and Puck groaned, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. "That's great! Bring him over. You haven't eaten yet, right? You must be hungry. Noah just made pizza and then we can have this cake for dessert." He held up the plate in his hand, "It's chocolate, your favorite!"

Blaine smiled widely, "That would be great! Are you sure?" Puck opened his mouth to reply, but Kurt hurried.

"Of course. Bring your, uh, husband?" He didn't want to make any assumptions. Blaine laughed and lifted his left hand, pointing out the ring.

"Husband, yes. But he's not here yet, so it'll just be Xander and me. That okay?" Kurt nodded, ushering him out the door.

"Perfect. Now go get your son. If he's anything like our daughter, your house is in ruins already." When Blaine ran out the door, Kurt turned to Ziva. "Honey, a boy your age is coming over."

"Yay! Can I play Cops and Robbers with him?"

"Only if he wants to and only after dinner. Go wash your hands." Puck moved out of the way as she sprinted down the hall. "Do you think she'll ever just walk anywhere?"

Puck ignored Kurt and went back to the kitchen to finish the pizza. "Noah? Are you angry that I invited Blaine over for dinner?"

He snorted and sliced the green peppers aggressively, "Your ex-boyfriend—_no_, make that your _first_ boyfriend, your first _fuck_ moved in next door. How the hell do you think I feel, Kurt?" He turned to the fashionista, "I don't care about _dinner_, I care about the next couple of _years_."

Kurt's face twisted in anger and disbelief, "You're _jealous?_ Are you freaking kidding me? How can you be jealous? I haven't seen Blaine in ten years!"

"You never forget your first fuck, Kurt." Puck shoved the pizza in the warmed oven and slammed the door shut.

Kurt looked pissed, but Puck couldn't care less at the moment. Just his luck. Just his _fucking _luck that Blaine fucking Pretty Boy Anderson moved _next door._ Images of Kurt and Blaine together senior year flashed through his brain and he slammed his fist down on the counter he was cleaning.

The kitchen was silent for a long moment, before Ziva's voice wafted in. She was singing a song she'd made up herself and sounded so happy that Puck was brought back to the moment. He forced himself to take in deep breaths to calm down. He was relatively composed when he felt Kurt's hand on his still balled fists. Puck looked to Kurt's face and found a pair of angry green eyes.

"Yes, _Puck_, I remember my first fuck." Puck tried to wrench his hand away, but Kurt's grip tightened. "I remember being in my bed at Dalton, listening to depressing music because I missed all of you so much." He cupped Puck's cheek with his other hand, only to have Puck turn his face away. Kurt's voice took on an edge, "I remember Blaine coming in and trying to cheer me up. He kissed me and I kissed him back. At that point, we'd only made out but I knew that night was going to be different."

"Kurt, don't—"

Kurt went on, "We took off our clothes and he asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted everything. He got on top of me and—_"_

Puck heart was going to give out, he was sure, "Kurt, _please_—_"_

Kurt grabbed his face with both hands and forced his husband to look him in the eye, "_Listen_. It hurt, but it was wonderful. I thought it was romantic and the perfect first time." He snorted, "I lasted about two minutes. I remember every second. Now, do you remember _our_ first time?"

"Of course I remember our first time." He snorted. "Why? Need some help recalling the details?" he added snidely.

Kurt narrowed his eyes, "Don't be stupid, Noah. It's not very becoming." Puck fumed. "I remember everything. _Everything_. From that stupid AC/DC shirt you were wearing to the grape flavored lube you used." Kurt seemed to lose his anger as a smirk overtook his face.

Puck froze and stopped trying to wriggle out of Kurt's grasp. His breathing became labored when Kurt leaned forward and pressed his lips against the shell of Puck's ear, "Remember how you fucked me with your fingers until I came all over my chest." Puck screwed his eyes shut and fought against the blood rushing to his groin. "You sucked me until I was hard again and then fucked me until I couldn't feel my legs." Kurt ran his tongue along the outside of Puck's ear. With a growl, Puck grabbed Kurt by the hips and flipped them over, so that Kurt's back met with the counter top. He thrust his crotch against his husband's, pinning him in place.

"Yes. _Yes_, okay. I remember. How could I forget? You were the tightest thing I'd ever felt." Puck found himself getting angry at Kurt's satisfied smile, "That doesn't mean I'm any less pissed because Pretty Boy is here."

"Why? How can you be jealous?" Kurt didn't wait for his answer and suddenly, Kurt's lips were on his and his tongue was doing some serious spelunking. Puck figured he could do one of two things: either pull away from Kurt's vacuum of a mouth and stay pissed or make out with his (annoyingly) sexy husband. _Finn Hudson_ had enough IQ points to guess which he decided on.

Puck fisted a hand in Kurt's hair, bringing their faces impossibly closer. He ran his tongue along the inside of Kurt's teeth, dick twitching in his jeans as Kurt let out small noises of arousal.

"We can't—_uh_, we c-can't do this now, _oh!_" Puck thrust his erection against Kurt's, eliciting a moan from the other man. He twisted Kurt's nipple through his designer shirt and let the sound of Kurt's whimper wash over him. He couldn't believe how a man of over thirty could still produce such a high-pitched noise, but he didn't question it. Just thanked his lucky stars. Kurt rolled his hips and the friction had Puck smearing precome on the inside of his jeans, "God, _Kurt_, you're just as hot as that day in the park."

"Better believe it, Puckerman. But we really shoul—" The doorbell rang and they both groaned.

Kurt took heaving breaths and straightened his hair while Puck glared in the direction of the door. Ziva ran past the kitchen and to the doorway, screaming, "They're here, they're here!"

Puck almost cried as Kurt gently pushed their bodies apart, "Babe!"

Kurt kissed him softly, "I swear on all that is holy and fashionable that if you behave during dinner, I will make it so worth your while."

_Amazing sex or petty, snide comments over pizza and beer? _Puck placed a kiss on Kurt's neck, "Fine. I'll behave." Kurt beamed.

"Daddy, Papa! Xander and Mr. Blaine are here!" The couple shared a smile at the sheer volume of their daughter's voice. "Papa, you're wrong! Xander is six! I'm five! That's not the same age!" She strutted into the kitchen, dragging a little boy by the hand. Blaine appeared behind them, a fond and amused smile on his face.

"Ziva was just telling us on how about how you have trouble with numbers, Kurt." Puck really wished he could pound the twinkle out of the smarmy bastard, but then there would be no sex for him (and Kurt would be hurt and cry and that would be the _worst_).

"Oh, I do, do I?" Kurt stared at his daughter with a wry look, crossing his arms.

Ziva copied him, finally letting go of the boy's hand (Puck almost laughed at the relieved expression that crossed his little face). Arms clumsily crossed across her chest, she said, matter-of-factly, "Daddy says so." Puck's eyes widened. "He says that you don't know how many sides a box has and—" She screeched as her father picked her up and tucked her under his arm. Puck turned to his amused audience, "Pizza, anyone?"

* * *

Later that night, Puck could not recall a single bit of conversation that transpired over dinner. He tuned it out, to be honest. Kurt and Blaine laughed and reminisced about old times at Dalton and McKinley. Puck kept himself distracted by playing the host, making sure everyone got enough to eat and drink. He watched over the kids and smoothed out the interaction when Ziva got a little…enthusiastic with her new playmate. Puck was playing babysitter when, around eight o'clock, Blaine and Kurt came into Ziva's playroom announcing Blaine's departure.

Now, an hour later and after putting Ziva down for the night, Puck laid in bed rethinking his initial reaction to the Blaine situation. He also took back his previous annoyance about fully attached houses. He thought it was going to be awkward, but he realized, as Kurt rode him, that it was a very, _very_ good thing. Kurt was bouncing up and down on his dick, gasping and moaning, desperate for release. _Yes_, Puck thought as Kurt screamed his name, _this could be the start of a fucking awesome time_.

"_Fuckfuckfuck—_NOAH_, oh my God!"_


	2. Chapter 2

Puck woke up the next morning feeling boneless and exhausted, his nerves still tingling pleasantly from the intense orgasm last night. A smug, satisfied smirk made its way across his sleep-filled face. When he turned to kiss Kurt, he rolled over to an empty bed. The resulting groan was a mix of disappointment and pain. His muscles protested the movement and he cursed getting older for the hundredth time.

He laid there on his front for a couple of minutes, willing his body to go back to sleep when his brain finally woke up. _Oh shit, Ziva's gonna be late_. He glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table and jumped out of bed. 7:30. He had fifteen minutes to get Ziva dressed and out of the house. Puck swore when he hit his head on the doorframe in his haste to get into Ziva's room.

"Baby, it's time to get—" The words caught in his throat at the humbling sight of his daughter sitting cross-legged on her bed, fully dressed for the day.

"Good morning, Daddy! Do you like my dress?" Puck stared as she modeled her floral print dress, perfectly situated on her tiny body.

"How did—"

"Daddy!" she shrieked, startling him. "You're not ready yet! I have a field trip today!" _Oh _hell_, that's today? Fuckfuckfuck._

"Crap! Sorry, baby, I'll be ready in a sec and I'll make your lunch and then we can go, okay?"

"Daddy, Papa made me lunch!" She held up her Batgirl lunch box proudly.

Puck let out a relieved sigh, _Score one for the hot husband_. "I'll be back in a sec, let me put on shoes."

"Daddy?" Puck turned back to his daughter, "You smell funny." He took a second to sniff his body odor, _I don't smell that bad, just like Kurt and sex—oh. _

"Okay, baby. Stay right there while I shower. Five minutes!" He ran out of the room and jumped into the shower. _Maybe Kurt and I should forget about sex on weekdays_. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he blanched. _Fuck, I really am getting old_.

* * *

The crisp April air sent a shiver through Puck's still damp body when the two Hummel-Puckermans made their way down the stoop exactly eight minutes later. _Nice day for a field trip_.

"Ready to go, Zivs?" Ziva looked up at her daddy and placed her pink sunglasses on her eyes, nodding.

"Ready, Daddy."

His daughter was such a badass. "Awesome." The pair walked through the gate and onto the sidewalk when someone called out to them.

"Puck, Ziva!" Puck groaned and turned reluctantly.

"Anderson." Blaine and his son were walking out of the doorway of their own house and made their way down the steps.

"Hi, Xander!" Ziva ran to the suddenly scared boy, who tried to hide behind his father's legs. Ziva was not to be deterred.

"What are you doing back there? Hey, you have a Superman lunchbox! That's so cool. He's okay, but Batman's better. Do you like Batman?" she was talking a mile a minute and Puck couldn't help but grin at her determination.

Blaine burst into laughter, "She's a mini-Kurt!" Puck scowled, brief good mood gone. He agreed, of course, but the bastard had no right making assumptions about his family.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Hey, are you two headed to school?"

Puck nodded, warily, "Yeah, why?"

Blaine smiled, "Excellent! Mind if we walk with you?"

"What?"

"To school." Blaine had a knowing smile on his face, "Remember? Kurt told me last night that Ziva went to the same school I registered Xander in."

Puck stifled his groan, "Right." He remembered no such thing, of course. Blatantly tuning out conversation did that. "Well, we should hurry. There's a field trip today and they leave on time."

"Of course! Come on, Xander, Ziva. Let's go." He turned to Puck, "It's only a few blocks away, right?"

Puck nodded and fell into step with the shorter man, the two behind their children. Ziva grabbed Xander's hand and forced him to walk with her as she marched on. Blaine laughed softly next to Puck, prompting him to look over.

Blaine shook his head, "Xander's very shy and Ziva…isn't. Their interaction is great to see, that's all."

A fond smile made its way on Puck's face, "Yeah, her teacher says she's the most popular girl in her class. Kurt says it's from natural personality. I say it's 'cause she's so freaking loud."

Blaine laughed, "Whatever works." The two fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, choosing to observe their kids' conversation.

They arrived at the school right in time for Xander and Ziva to get on the school bus. Blaine went over to talk to Xander's teacher and Puck took the opportunity to talk to Ziva privately.

"Hey short stuff, talk to me for a sec." Ziva ran over from her assembled group of friends, backpack bouncing up and down in sync with her curls.

"What's up, Daddy?" Puck kneeled down so that they were face to face.

"I want you to do something for me." Ziva's face lit up in preemptive excitement. "Xander is new and doesn't know anyone."

"Yes, he does. He knows me!" Puck chuckled.

"You're right, baby. My mistake. He doesn't know anyone in his class." Ziva nodded, understanding.

"Do you want me to play with him today so he's not sad?"

_God, I love this kid._ "Yes, baby, that's exactly what I want. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Of course I can, Daddy!" She wrapped her short arms around his neck and squeezed. Puck hugged her back, taking a moment to soak up the feeling of his incredible daughter.

"Okay, Zivs, have fun." She took off in flash, racing toward Xander who was standing by himself in front of the school bus.

"HEY GUYS, I'M GONNA PLAY WITH XANDER TODAY 'CAUSE HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS, BUT HE'S REALLY COOL." Puck smacked himself in the forehead, _This kid has as much concept of subtlety as Kurt does. _

Xander, whose face could not hold any more color, Puck was sure, looked to be fighting between being relieved and terrified at the attention.

"She has quite the set of lungs, doesn't she?" Puck jumped as Blaine appeared next to him, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about—"

Blaine waved him off, "Please. I'm glad Xander has someone so…strong looking out for him. Thank you, really."

Puck shrugged, "Xander seems like a righteous dude, didn't want him to feel left out."

Blaine bowed his head, "Thanks, Puck. That means a lot." He pointed his thumb the direction in which they came, "Going home?" Puck nodded and the two left in step, but not before waving their offspring off.

The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but Blaine started talking anyway. Puck sighed internally, did he really have to hear this?

"I'm glad that the field trip will give them more time at school, unpacking is hectic and I know Xander is getting bored just watching me put the house together."

"Did your husband make it yet?"

Blaine chuckled, "Uh, no. He'll be here in time for the Fourth of July, hopefully." Puck stopped in his tracks. Blaine paused in his walking and turned back to the stunned man, "What?"

"Where the hell is he?" Blaine looked confused at Puck's abrupt irritation.

"In the Middle East. He's a contractor, overseeing the rebuilding of half a city over there."

Puck, for one, was shell-shocked at Blaine's casual acceptance of his partner's absence. He was pissed and he didn't even like Blaine. Family was family, nothing was more important. Puck grew up without a father. He didn't want to admit it, but it fucked him up big time. It was part of the reason that he insisted on staying home with Ziva and not getting a nanny. Not to mention the fact that Puck would literally go insane if Kurt wasn't there to help him. Just knowing that he had someone to be a partner and pick up slack every once in a while helped Puck believe that Ziva would grow up without any major detriments (Kurt would argue that genetics killed that particular pipe dream, but his husband was a bitch). To be perfectly honest, Puck had no idea how Blaine was surviving.

"How the fuck are you going to pull that off?" He face palmed mentally. _Tact_, Puck could hear his inner voice (which sounded like Kurt, funnily enough) say_, get some._

To his credit, Blaine just laughed, "Hell if I know. I'll deal with the next three months after I excavate our lives out of brown boxes." His attempt at nonchalance was undermined by the sadness Puck could see in his eyes. "Xander and I miss him, but it needed to be done and it's the last overseas project he'll ever have to do."

Puck nodded and started to walk, prompting Blaine to do the same. Before long, they were standing on the sidewalk in front of Blaine's house.

"Thanks for the company, Puck. I'll see you later." He turned and made his way up the stoop. He was unlocking the door when Puck made his decision.

"Let me help." Blaine's shoulders squared before he turned back to Puck, who was standing awkwardly on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets.

"What?"

"Let me help. I have nothing to do and I'm fucking tired of cooking, so I'll just order in when Kurt comes home. The spawn won't be back until three and I'll go insane if I watch daytime TV."

Blaine's eyes were wide with shock, but he nodded, "That would be awesome, Puck."

Puck took the steps two at a time and shouldered his way past Blaine into the house, "Whatever. man. Do you have any idea how fucking annoying Maury is? Fucking douche."

* * *

Three hours later, Puck almost regretted his act of charity. He _hated_ unpacking. Constantly asking Blaine where the hell everything went got old two and a half hours ago, but between them, the two men figured it out. Every time Puck got tired of removing dishes from newspaper and packing tape or shelving books in the living room, he would look over to Blaine who was doing the same and realized how shitty it would be to do this alone. Puck shook his head as he place the last of the songbooks on the shelf.

"Time for a break, I think." Blaine lifted himself off his knees from where he was assembling the coffee table. "How about we take this out for a spin by drinking a cup of coffee?"

Puck let out a sigh of relief, "Fuck, yes. Woke up late today and didn't have enough time to grab a cup."

Blaine's lips twitched in amusement as he walked past Puck and into the kitchen, "Yeah, I bet. Late night?" He smirked at Puck, who shrugged and smirked back.

"Dudes don't fuck and tell, Anderson."

Blaine barked in surprised laughter, "You don't need to tell, _Puckerman_, I heard you two loud and clear. Did you know that our bedrooms are adjacent to one another?"

"You don't say?" Puck's shit-eating grin was ridiculously large and he knew it, "So sorry."

Blaine snorted and handed Puck a mug with the freshly brewed coffee, "Wow, it's been fifteen years and you still haven't managed to at least _fake_ sincerity." He grabbed his own cup and walked back to the living room, claiming the armchair by the window. Puck followed and sat on the love seat across from him. They sat for a few minutes, enjoying their coffee.

"Thanks for the help, Puck. I really appreciate it. The bookshelf alone would have taken me all day." Puck shrugged off the praise.

"Don't mention it. We still have three kid-free hours. We can finish off the kitchen and dining room, no problem."

Blaine's head fell back and he yelled to the ceiling, "Yes! I might actually be able to finish the upstairs after dinner and Xander can sleep in his own bed and not on a mattress on the floor like some crack whore."

Puck, who had just taken a sip of his drink, snorted and spilled the liquid all over his front. Blaine jumped up, "Shit, sorry! Do you want a shirt? I have some that are big on me, so they'll probably fit you—"

Puck waved him off, "Forget it. This shirt is a goner anyway and I don't mind. Calm yourself, Pretty Boy." Blaine sat down with a sigh.

"My husband calls me that, you know." Puck caught himself before spitting his coffee out again.

"Okay, awkward. Anderson it is, then."

"Or you know, Blaine."

Puck pretended to mull it over, "Nah, Anderson works." Blaine rolled his eyes.

"So, why did he have to?"

Blaine raised a quizzical eyebrow, "Why did who have to do what?"

"Your husband. Why'd he have to go overseas?"

Blaine's previously jovial face disappeared and a somber one took its place, "Oh." His gaze fell to the mug resting in his hands, "It was a big contract and the only way we could afford this place. I write for the New Yorker, but it's only a small column and doesn't pay very well. My husband is the primary breadwinner." He sighed heavily before raising his gaze to meet Puck's eyes and smiled, "But, it's the last project that will take him more than a couple of hours away, so we said 'What the hell?' It took me a while to get our shit together for the move, but I made it. And I can't believe our good luck to have moved next door to familiar faces."

Guilt settled in Puck's stomach. He was cursing every deity known to man yesterday and here Blaine was, lonely and thankful for being neighbors with him and Kurt. The shame quieted any conversation on his side.

"So," Blaine prompted, after a couple of beats, "You're a stay at home dad?" Puck nodded.

"Yeah. When we had Ziva, Kurt's job was way better than mine and he was made to work, you know?"

"I can see that."

"He loves his job and I like the housewife gig. It worked out."

Blaine leaned forward, "I was meaning to ask Kurt yesterday, but didn't get a chance. How did he break into the business so soon? He's been working at the interior design firm for a while, right?"

Puck blinked, "Uh, yeah. Nine years, I think. He didn't plan on it, but he likes it a lot."

"He went to school for fashion?"

"Yeah. He did internships during school and hated it. Too many catty bitches." Puck snorted, "Kurt can dish it out, but can't swallow his own shit." Blaine laughed. "He graduated and got hired as gofer for an interior design firm."

"Gofer?"

"You know, go-for this, go-for that. He was someone's bitch." Blaine nodded in understanding.

"So, he worked his way up? In so little time?"

"Yeah, if you want to call it that." Blaine's puzzled look prompted Puck to explain. "Kurt, the crafty jackass he was, went over his boss' boss' head and presented _his_ design for a big-shot lawyer's office. The lawyer loved it and Kurt was promoted to fulltime designer a week later. Now he's a head designer."

Blaine whistled, "Wow. I mean, it's Kurt, I'm not surprised, but _damn_."

"Tell me about it."

"How'd you two meet? I mean, again. You didn't date during college, right?"

Puck snorted, "No, Kurt was here in New York and I went to Ohio State. We hooked up two years out of college. I moved to live with my cousin in the West Village and worked odd jobs here and there. I was working as a bouncer for this gay club a few blocks away from my apartment one night when I had to throw this handsy drunk guy off another dude. That's when I saw Kurt again."

Blaine's eyes bulged out of their sockets, "You saved Kurt from being sexually assaulted?"

Puck laughed, "_Kurt_ was the handsy drunk guy. I had to rip him off of this poor schmuck."

It took a while for Blaine to stop laughing.

* * *

They got back to work, dividing the kitchen boxes between them. Their conversation didn't stop, Puck subtly gauging whether or not his new neighbor was going to wreck the neighborhood suicide statistics (not one in 48 years!) and Blaine being completely oblivious to his companion's ulterior motives, chatting away happily while sorting the cookware. It was only when Blaine was setting the clock on the oven did the two men realize they had fifteen minutes until their children needed to be picked up. Puck got up from his place on the floor, where he was attempting to organize the kitchen cleansers in the cabinet under the sink.

"You know you've been doing the housewife gig too long when you stack Clorox next to the Windex because of _color coordination_." Puck grimaced, "Fuck, that was gay."

Blaine chuckled, "You know,I _was_ going to say it, but you beat me to it."

"Shut it, Anderson, and get your queer-ass _loafers_ on, the spawn will be back soon and the teachers hate it when parents are late."

Blaine mumbled incoherently under his breath as he ran to the door where his "queer-ass loafers" were. After he slipped his feet into them, he motioned to the front door with a toss of his curly head, "Ready?"

"I'm never ready for the terrorist to get back from a field trip, but Kurt would kill me for trying to pawn her off again," Puck said as he slipped past the stunned Blaine and out into the cool spring air.

"Again?"


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH, Alex (xlessxthanx3x) for all your wonderful input and beta-ing skills!

* * *

Two weeks had past since the day Puck helped Blaine move in. The new family was finally settled in and a routine that Puck (and Kurt) could not have foreseen had been established: Kurt, Puck, and Ziva had dinner with Blaine and Xander twice a week, location alternating between the two houses; Puck and Blaine walked the kids to school every morning and picked them up together every afternoon; Blaine accompanied Puck to the grocery store (not that Puck wanted him to, but he had to admit, having someone there to double-check the list cut out the annoying practice of going back to that hell-hole); and Puck took the time to give Blaine the lowdown on the neighbors.

"You know," Kurt said one evening as he was clearing the dinner table, "When Blaine moved in next door, the best I thought I could help for was civility. I had no one idea you guys were going to be _friends_."

Puck, who was putting the left over food in Tupperware, snorted, "Babe, Anderson and I are not friends."

"Your childish way of not using his given name aside," Kurt replied, eyebrow raised, "I have to disagree." He walked by the counter Puck was using to put away the food, deliberately brushing his front along Puck's back. He leaned into the not-quite embrace to whisper into Puck ear, "_You're full of _shit_, Noah Puckerman."_

Puck dropped the spoon he was using, a full-body shiver running through him. Kurt laughed as Puck whirled around and grabbed his hips, pulling him so that they were plastered against each other. "Cursing and full name, babe? Someone wants to get laid." He waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, causing Kurt to laugh some more.

"If I wanted to use your full name, I would have said Noah Isaac _Hummel_-Puckerman." He smirked as he received the expected reaction. Puck growled, tightening his grip on Kurt's waist, grinding his hips into his husband's. So he had a domestic kink, sue him.

"Someone _really_ wants to get laid." The gleam in his blue eyes was the only response he needed. Puck leaned in and parted Kurt's lips with his tongue, moaning when Kurt ran his tongue against his.

They were making out against the counter like teenagers when a ringing telephone startled them apart. Puck opened his mouth to tell Kurt to ignore it when Kurt pulled away and picked up the house phone.

"Hummel-Puckerman residence. Kurt speaking. Oh, hi Blaine!" Puck glared, _What a _fucking_ cockblock._

"Oh yeah, I'm fine. My day was pretty good. Noah made an excellent dinner." Kurt paused and laughed, "Yeah, sure. One second." He put a hand over the speaker and offered it to Puck. "It's for you," he sang.

Puck glared at the proffered phone. Kurt smirked and rose that insufferable eyebrow again, "Aren't you excited to talk to your BFF?"

Puck snatched away the phone, "You're not nearly as cute as you think you are."

Kurt laughed out loud, "I'm _adorable_, and you know it."

Puck ignored him and barked into the phone, "What?"

Blaine's answering laugh only served to piss him off more, _"Bad day, Puck?_"

"It was fine 'til you called."

"_Ouch," _Blaine' jovial tone held no hurt, _"So you don't want to talk?"_

"Spit it out, Anderson, what do you want?"

Blaine's voice turned serious, _"I was rooting through Xander's bag just now and I found—"_

"Condoms? Dude, I can't help you there. I was a stud, but not that much of stud," Puck snarked, pleased with himself before the smirk was wiped off his face when Kurt, who had heard the exchange, sang out (_again_ with the sing-song voice) "_You're flirting, Noah._" Puck's eyes widened, moving the phone away before Blaine could hear and swiped at Kurt with a dishtowel. Kurt practically _giggled_ as he pranced out of the way.

"_Ha, ha, ha. If Xander had condoms in his bag by the time he was _twenty_, I'll be happy. As it is, he needs to get out of his shell to find a significant other._"

"You got one, didn't you?"

"_Yes, but I was extroverted and suave."_

"And a total douchebag. Dude, come on."

"_Look who's talking!" _

Kurt coughed into his fist, "Flirting!"

"Whatever. So, what did you find in Xan-man's bag?"

"_An invitation to a birthday party. A girl named—"_

"Samantha Dent. Sami. I know, Ziva was invited, too." He heard a sigh of relief over the line.

"_Oh, thank God. So, which one of you is going?"_

Puck rolled his eyes, "Why? You want someone to walk with on the way to the party? Jesus, Anderson, I know you're co-dependent, but that's just sa—"

"_Puck! You didn't read the invitation, did you?"_

More eye rolling, "No. Why should I? Standard date, time, location shit."

"_You should read it. Or I can read it out loud, if you want."_

"Hold your curls. I've got it on the refrigerator right here." He scanned the card, his eyes caught on one line. "Fucking hell!"

"Language!" Kurt exclaimed at the exact time Blaine did over the line.

"Anderson, there is no _fucking _way—" Kurt slapped him on the shoulder. "—I'm going to sleep over at a _zoo_."

"Let me see that." Kurt took the invitation out of Puck's pliant fingers.

"_If Ziva isn't going, then I can't send Xander. His teacher says that she's still the only kid he'll make eye contact with. If we go without her, it'll be a total disaster and—"_

Kurt cut him off by taking the phone from his husband's hands and saying, "Blaine, relax. Ziva will be going and Noah will escort her. RSVP for the party and pass along Ziva's as well. Have a good night." He hung up the phone.

Puck's jaw dropped, "What the hell, Kurt? What the fuck was that? I'm not going to a zoo!"

"This isn't about you." Kurt turned from Puck and continued to wash dishes. "This is about your daughter. Your daughter who loves animals and adores her friends and would feel utterly left out if her entire class attended the party and she was the only one who didn't." Puck's gut clenched.

"Fine. That's true. But why do I have to take her? You don't see enough of her as it is and—" Puck stopped talking at the sound of dishes cluttering in the sink. The kitchen was silent, air heavy with words unspoken. _Oh, fuck. Why the _fuck_ did I say that? This is not—_

Kurt turned to him, face pinched and eyes bright. It was subtle, but Puck could see his lips trembling. "You're right, Noah. I'm a horrible father. I chose my career over my baby. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Babe, I didn't—" Kurt shoved past him and moved towards the stairs, silent. "Where are you going?"

"To spend time with the daughter I've neglected—" Puck winced at the sound of tears coating Kurt's words. "—I'll finish the dishes later." With that, he calmly walked up the stairs.

The universe: 5,673,879. Noah Puckerman: 0.

* * *

Puck finished cleaning the kitchen and went on to vacuum the living room, knowing full well that it was Kurt's turn. He also knew that vacuuming was Kurt's least favorite chore and that Puck didn't have nearly enough balls to face the designer just yet. Which is why he decided to re-organize the massive DVD collection the two of them shared, creating a system categorized by genre and then alphabetically by last name of lead actor. It was the most inane system, but Puck needed a distraction. By the time all one hundred and thirty two DVDs were sorted, Puck was creeping up the stairs, careful not to make any noise as he snuck past the door of Ziva's room, which was slightly ajar. Sounds of Kurt's voice wafted into the hallway, paralyzing Puck in place.

"'_Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.'"_

"No!"

Puck jumped at the volume and intensity of his daughter's outburst. From inside the room, Kurt chuckled, "What's wrong, Ziva?"

"Papa, Harry's broom was broken. That was his present from his teacher! He's gonna be so sad!" A smile made its way on Puck's face, anticipating his husband's response.

"Well, we'll have to wait and see, won't we? It's time for you to go to sleep." Ziva groaned.

"But, Papa, I want to know what happens next!"

"Sorry, baby, but you know the rules: one chapter a night."

"Paaaaapa!" Ziva's whining was legendary, "If you read to me some more, I'll give you extra kisses!" Puck couldn't hold in his mirth. Kurt's bark of a laugh could be heard as well.

"I'm being bribed by my own daughter! Come here, you little—" Suddenly the hallway was filled with the sounds of Ziva's shrieking laughter, punctuated by gasps of breath that she struggled to take in as her father tickled her.

Motivated by his favorite sound in the world (the mixture of Kurt and Ziva's giggles), Puck stepped into the room. Kurt stilled at the interruption, his 100-megawatt smile dimming only slightly. Ziva took the opportunity to break free of her papa's hold and ran to her daddy.

"Daddy," she looked up at him, the picture of innocence with black curls, translucent skin, green eyes bundled up in a purple onesie. Puck's heart clenched as he realized that Ziva was the best thing he's ever done, his greatest contribution to the world. "Daddy, will _you_ read me another chapter? I'll give you extra kisses!" Puck laughed out loud. _Yes, definitely the best thing that's ever happened to me_.

"No, Zivs. Your papa is right, one chapter a night. Tomorrow, munchkin, okay?"

Her face dropped, but she nodded, "Okay, daddy." She turned and ran to her bed, leaping on top of the comforter. Kurt picked her up, kissed her on the cheek and placed her under the covers, "Goodnight, baby girl."

"'Night, papa. Thank you for reading with me." Kurt smile was soft and content.

"My pleasure, Ziva."

Puck made his way to the other side of her bed, sitting next to Kurt. He placed a kiss on Ziva's forehead, taking a second to absorb the feeling of her smooth skin, "Sweet dreams, princess."

"'Night, daddy." Kurt turned on the night light with a click and he and Puck made their way out of the room. As Puck switched off the overhead light and was closing the door a sound made him and Kurt pause.

"I love you." Ziva's voice was already filled with sleep, but the sincerity had Puck looking into Kurt's equally wide eyes.

"We love you, too," they answered in unison, not looking away from each other. Finally, Kurt broke the gaze and walked down the hall. Puck sighed as he heard Kurt descending downstairs. He closed the door gently and followed his husband.

* * *

When he reached the kitchen, he found Kurt putting away the now-dry dishes from the dish rack. His shoulders were set and back ramrod straight. Puck might as well have been walking into a warzone.

"Babe, I've got it. Why don't you go into the living room and pop in a DVD? I'll finish here and make some tea."

"No, thank you." Kurt's, well, _curt_ tone cut through Puck.

"How about you curl up with a magazine then? I can still make t—"

"Noah!"

Puck froze. Both of Kurt's hands were gripping the edge of the counter and his head hung in a picture of—anger? Frustration? Sadness? Puck didn't know which option was worse.

"Noah." Kurt's voice was softer, barely audible. The desolation came across loud and clear, however. "Noah, please stop. You did nothing wrong. No need for all the sucking up."

"Hey, the blowjob was going to be a surprise! How'd you know?" _My name is Puck and I use humor to deflect real emotion_.

A surprised chuckle made its way past Kurt's lips, his body relaxing slightly. His head was still bowed and his arms were trembling with the strain of supporting his weight and maintaining the death grip he had on the counter's edge.

Puck stepped closer, "Kurt, what's wrong? What's going on in that crazy head of yours?" When he didn't get an answer, Puck moved closer and grabbed Kurt's chin, gently turning his head to face his. Kurt's eyes were shining with unshed tears, his face was red and strained and Puck was pretty sure his stomach was somewhere near the center of the Earth by now, because Kurt crying was really the worst thing and now he was fucking _sobbing _and Puck couldn't do anything but wrap his arms around Kurt's shaking shoulders and hold him against his body too _fucking tightly_, but it didn't matter because Puck was never going to let go.

They fell to the floor in a heap when Kurt let go of the counter and let go of everything because one second Puck was forcing Kurt into an awkward embrace and the next he was supporting Kurt's dead weight. They were both on their knees, Kurt's face buried in Puck's neck and Puck was hugging Kurt like he wanted to absorb him into his body and he fucking _did_, because maybe by being one person, they could do this. They could love and be loved and carry on living knowing how much they kicked ass at life. Because Kurt and Puck were pretty awesome, but KurtandPuck were _phenomenal_.

Puck was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the whimpering, "I chose my career over my baby. My _baby_, Noah."

The tears that were building up in his eyes finally spilled over as Puck all but growled, "**Stop**." He gripped Kurt's shoulders and pushed him back so that they could see into each other's eyes. "**Stop.**" Kurt's eyes were red and wide and shocked. Puck _needed_ to make him understand.

"You didn't choose anything. Anything, Kurt! You have both." Kurt closed his eyes and shook his head. Puck gripped his shoulders more tightly, causing Kurt to look at him. "Listen to me. You. Have. Both. You have a job that you love and fucking _rock_ at and you have a little girl upstairs that worships the ground you fucking walk on. You have a little girl that goes fucking _apeshit_ every night when she hears your key in the lock because it means her world is complete again—"

"That's just it, Noah! She's so excited to see me everyday because _I'm never here!_" His body was wracked by sobs again and he fell forward into Puck's welcoming body.

"You come home every day at six, Kurt," he whispered into Kurt's ear as his husband cried into his chest, "Six. That means she has three hours at home without you. In the life of a five-year-old? That's nothing. Hell, she's in her own world most of the time, she doesn't even notice _me_ and I'm here all the time." He pushed Kurt up, again and looked him in the eye. "Babe, you're _amazing_. You wake up at the ass crack of dawn every day just to go to work and come home in time for dinner. Then, even after a long-ass day, when I know you're exhausted, you spend hours playing with the most hyperactive five-year old ever. After that, you still have enough energy to roll around in the sack with the motherfuckin' sex shark!"

Kurt laughed. It was the most snot-filled laugh Puck's ever seen, but to him, it was the eighth wonder of the world. "Babe, you're not Superdad. You're Superman! You're fucking Super_everything_, okay? Don't ever forget that."

Puck tried as hard as he could to convey all the love and trust and admiration he had for the mess of a man that sat before him with his eyes. Kurt stared back with his beautiful green eyes that fucking _glowed_ and nodded slowly, "Thank you, Noah."

Puck shrugged, "Just telling it like I see it. 'Sides, I win major points for marrying Superman. Just call me Lois Lane." Kurt laughed and smacked him in the shoulder. Puck grinned and reached his hand up to the counter, grabbing a dishtowel. He sniffed it and, when he deemed it clean enough, passed it to Kurt.

"Thank you, Noah. How delightfully charming of you." There was that note of sarcastic disdain Puck knew and loved.

"I'm classy like that, Hummel."

"Hummel-_Puckerman_."

"Damn straight."

* * *

They didn't get up off the kitchen floor then, however. They were a little too preoccupied when Puck pushed Kurt on his back and made his way down Kurt's body. He swallowed Kurt down with practiced ease and spent the next fifteen minutes turning Kurt into the _better_ kind of quivering, shaking mess. After pushing Kurt to the edge, only to pull him back from it for the sixth time, he quit playing around and shoved him so far down his throat, his nose touched Kurt's perfectly taut abdomen. And then he hummed. He hummed and Kurt lost it. Kurt sat straight up, grabbed Puck's head, and _screamed_. Puck swallowed everything his husband had to offer.

Self-esteem reaffirming sex? Best sex ever.

* * *

That Friday found Blaine and Puck on the 4 train, going uptown. Puck sat back in his seat and sighed as he watched Ziva and Xander sitting in the seats across the aisle from them, hands intertwined and heads together, whispering. Puck groaned, prompting Blaine to ask, "What's wrong?"

"You know all those awful chick-flicks that are about a girl and a dude who grew up together and end up married by the end?"

"Those are my favorites!"

Puck gave him some serious side-eye, "Dude." Blaine grinned his obnoxious full-blown smile and Puck rolled his eyes, "_Anyway_, the opening credits should be rolling right about now."

Blaine's smile shrunk and his eyebrow furrowed in confusion before understanding dawned on his face. He looked at the kids and then looked back to Puck, "Why do you insist on thinking of our children as older than they are. _Enjoy_ the prepubescent years, Puck. Teenagers are not going to be fun."

Puck snorted, "Oh, like you can talk. At least your child doesn't embody every diva from Patti LuPone to Mercedes Jones."

"Mercedes! How is she doing nowadays?"

Puck grinned, "She's kicking ass and taking some serious numbers as a government professor at a college in Connecticut."

"Really? That's awesome!" He looked thoughtful for a moment, "And completely unexpected."

"She's freaking smart and you know she has the balls to keep hundreds of entitled rich snobs in line."

"No, no, no! Of course she's _able_, I just didn't think that she was _willing_. She always struck me as the performer type."

"Yeah, well, we all were." Puck thought back to the days of weekly assignments and national competitions. "But Rachel is the only one of us who actually wanted it after all. And if you ever see Mercedes in her classroom, you'll realize how much teaching and wailing Aretha Franklin on a stage have in common."

At Blaine's raised eyebrow, he smirked, "It's all about demanding the R-E-S-P-E-C-T and Professor Jones scares the crap out of _me_ and I've seen her half-naked and on top of Finn."

"WHAT?" The kids (and the other occupants of the train car) looked over with wide-eyes at the now-red-faced columnist. Puck smirked and motioned for Ziva and Xander to continue with their conspiring.

"So Kurt didn't tell you about Finn and Mercedes. Interesting." He paused, before continuing, "Well, they're married. Finn is high school music teacher."

Blaine's mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. He slumped into his seat, stunned. Puck shrugged and put in his earphones. The sounds of Journey lulled him into a comfortable state, only to be interrupted ten minutes later, when Blaine apparently shook himself out of his stupor and started pouting at the lack of attention he was getting. Puck sighed and handed him an earbud. Blaine's face took on that ridiculous smile again as he placed it in his ear.

_Strangers, waiting, up and down the boulevard, their shadows searching in the niii-i-iight._

* * *

It took them two hours on the train to get from their Park Slope neighborhood to the Bronx Zoo. The trip was lengthened by the sheer amount of bags Blaine had.

"Dude, what do you need _eight_ bags for? It's one night. You look like you and Xander are crossing the Atlantic to find refuge in the New World."

Xander and Ziva giggled, even though Puck was about ninety-nine percent sure they didn't understand the joke. He made a funny face at them and had them giggling furiously.

"I don't know what I brought all this stuff for, really. But I have a tent and sleeping bags and then I brought extra clothes and underwear, not to mention pajamas and a first aid kit and—"

"Okay, okay. I get it. You prepared for the apocalypse. Whatever. Is your tent big enough to fit me and Ziva?"

Blaine's face was smug, "Forgot something, Puck?"

Puck scowled, "No, Anderson, I didn't. But I thought that if your tent was big enough, we could share and only have to waste time to put up one tent. That way Ziva and Xander can have their first sleepover and you and I can cover each other."

"Sounds like a plan," Blaine nodded furiously, free curls flying. As they reached the entrance to the zoo, the adults traded one last glance before giving their children the go-ahead, releasing them to the so-called wild.

"You want to pick a place to pitch the tent? I've actually never been here before," Blaine was scoping out options, but deferred to Puck's expertise.

"Yeah, let's go by the entrance to the aquarium. It doesn't smell too bad and it's close to the bathrooms if the kids need to go at night. It looks like the majority of the party is over by there anyway." Puck picked up the four bags he brought and started toward the preferred location. After a few steps, he backtracked and picked up two of the bags that Blaine was having trouble balancing. He walked off without a word as Blaine called out his thanks.

Puck had a feeling that this was going to be a long night.

* * *

He was right. After the kids (of which there were thirty. _Thirty_ five-and-six-year-olds. Some parents were masochists) went on the zoo-sponsored petting tour of the zoo, they were fed all the foods that kids would never turn down: hamburgers, hot dogs, French-fries, and the only green thing in sight was the ketchup. Once the kids were stuffed with dinner, they sang Happy Birthday to Sami and ate the ice cream cake. By that time, it was already nine, an hour past Ziva's regularly scheduled bedtime. Any hope of her being too tired to protest going sleep flew out the window as her and Xander ran around the tent, chasing after a pair of twin girls that Puck knew were in Xander's class.

"Time to impose pajamas and lights out?" Blaine asked. As tired as Puck was, Blaine looked about ten times worse.

"Yeah, dude, we can try. You can go ahead and crash, though, if you want. You look like crap."

"Thanks, Puck. You really know how to charm a guy—" He yawned, "Sorry. I was so worried that Xander was going to have a bad time, that I only got a couple of hours of sleep last night."

Puck shook his head in disbelief, "Dude, you're being stupid. Xander is _fine_. Look at him!" He gestured wildly to the foursome running around a bench, screeching and laughing in glee.

Blaine's tired eyes softened and a small smile took over his face, "Yeah, he looks like he's having fun, doesn't he?" He turned to Puck for confirmation.

Puck gave it to him, "He's having a blast. Why are you so worried?"

"I don't know," Blaine sighed heavily. "The move was hard on him—not that he had many friends before. He's always been extremely shy and not many kids took the time to even approach him, not to mention befriend him."

"And then Ziva came along."

Blaine chuckled, "Yes, and then Hurricane Ziva came along and Xander was blown away into her world of mischief and mayhem."

"That sounds about right." Puck nodded, grinning as he saw his daughter drag Xander by his hand to take refuge from the twins behind a trashcan.

"I want to thank you, Puck." Puck's head snapped around to gaze at the resolved face Blaine was sporting.

"For what?"

"For being my friend. For helping me adjust mine and Xander's life while my husband is away. For producing the best friend my son has ever had. Take your pick." Blaine shrugged, "There's not much I _can't_ thank you and Kurt and Ziva for."

Puck gaped at him, shocked by the sincerity and conviction he heard in Blaine's words. Suddenly, all of Kurt's assertions about Blaine's character sounded true, rather than some misplaced sense of teenage admiration. He understood what Kurt saw all those years ago and what he insisted hadn't changed in the thirteen years they were apart.

Blaine Anderson, as naïve as he could be, was one of those all-around great guys that had enough faith in humanity to keep even the cynics like Puck afloat.

"No problem, Anderson. It's nothing I wouldn't do for my other friends."

And it was the vocal acceptance of their friendship that brought the largest smile Puck has ever seen on Blaine's face. Jesus, he was going to need sunglasses.

* * *

Later that night, after Puck and Blaine managed to get both kids into their pajamas and into their respective sleeping bags, Puck shifted around in his own sleeping bag, attempting to get comfortable. Blaine passed out as soon as Xander and Ziva's breath evened out, sometime around eleven. Now it was nearly midnight and Puck still has not had more than a couple of minutes of sleep.

"_Daddy!"_

Puck stilled, wondering if what he'd heard was a figment of his imagination and lack of sleep, but when he heard it again, he turned to the sleeping bag next to him.

"_Yeah, Zivs?" _he whispered back, aware of the other two occupants of the tent.

"_I had fun today."_

Puck chuckled softly, _"I'm glad, princess. Why are you awake?"_

"_I felt you move around."_ Nice job, Puckerman. You woke up your five-year-old. _"Why are you awake, Daddy?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Is it because you miss Papa?"_

Oh. Could that be it? Did Puck finally grow that vagina that had been threatening to grown ever since he had a child? Was he pathetic enough to not be able to sleep without the sounds of Kurt's soft snoring beside him?

Probably.

"_Nah. It's because the ground's so hard."_

Ziva unzipped her sleeping bag and wormed her way into her father's, "_Don't worry, Daddy, you can cuddle with me tonight." _

He's gotten so bad at lying that his _toddler_ could see through it. Great. At least he could spend the night holding on to her.

"_Night, baby." _

"_Night, Daddy. I love you." _

"_Love you, too."_

* * *

Ever since Ziva was born, Puck slept that much more lightly, training his body to wake up at a moment's notice or a baby's shifts in the night. Which is how he found himself blinking his eyes open at four in the morning. Turning to the lying body next to him in his sleeping bag, he was relieved when he saw Ziva still asleep.

Confused as to why his body woke him up, he looked around the tent. In the sleeping bag next to Ziva's unoccupied one, he saw Xander sitting up, eyes wide.

"_Dad?"_

"_No, bud, it's Puck. What's up?" _

"_Sorry, Mr. Puckerman. I just wanted to wake up my dad because I have to go to the bathroom." _Even whispering, his voice sounded meek.

"_Don't do that, Xander. I can take you to the bathroom." _

"_I'm sorry."_

Puck scoffed lightly, _"Don't be sorry, little dude. Come on." _Somehow, he maneuvered his way around Ziva's sleeping body so that she did not wake up. Once he was out of the sleeping back, Puck crouched in the tent and took a hold of one of Xander's hands. Slowly, they made it out into the cool summer air.

"There we are. Alright, Xan-man, let's go."

Xander kept his head down, but nodded, walking alongside Puck in the direction of the bathrooms. Once inside, Puck turned to the six-year-old boy.

"Do you need help, buddy?"

Xander shook his head, wordlessly.

"Okay, I'll be right out here."

A few moments later, Puck heard the toilet being flushed and the sink turning on. Soon, Xander was outside, head down again.

"Feel better?" A nod. "Good."

As they walked, Puck took care to examine the shy boy. With a tan complexion and dark curls, Xander looked like the perfect clone of Blaine Anderson. He would turn out to be attractive, Puck guessed, but humble and withdrawn. _Every girl's dream_, Puck thought, snorting softly to himself.

The noise made Xander look up briefly, but his head was back toward the ground when he said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Puckerman, for waking you up."

Puck stopped and knelt down so that he was looking up at the boy's blushing face, "Hey, Xander, listen to me. Don't worry about it. I'm a dad; we're supposed to do these things. And your dad is one of my friends. Don't be afraid to ever ask me or Kurt for anything, okay?"

Xander hesitated and then nodded, "Okay, Mr. Puckerman."

"And none of that. Call me Puck or Noah, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, what?" Puck drew out the words, teasing him.

"Okay, Puck!" Xander was grinning shyly, but grinning nonetheless.

"That's it!"

The two made their way back into the tent and into their sleeping bags.

"_Goodnight, Puck." _

Puck smiled, mission accomplished, _"Goodnight, Xander."_

* * *

The next morning, Puck woke up to the sounds of whispering and giggles. Xander and Ziva were awake, conversing about the night they had. Puck groaned and pulled himself up, reaching for his cell phone to check the time.

"It's eight-thirty, Puck. Breakfast will be in half-an-hour and then we have to be out by nine-thirty."

Puck groaned and fell back down into his sleeping bag, he did not get enough sleep and his back was _killing _him. He was _way_ too old for this shit.

"How much sleep did you get?"

"Not enough, you?"

Blaine sighed, "I slept great. Too great, actually. You did all the work last night."

Puck waved his hand in dismissal, "Forget it. You were exhausted and Xander and I had an adventure, right, Xan-man?"

"Right!"

Puck, with his eyes closed, could _feel_ Blaine's blinding smile.

* * *

They miraculously packed up their things in time to leave right after the kids finished up with their breakfast of sugary cereal. Puck, carrying six bags, was dreading going into the train for two hours after they had left the park.

"Don't you ever wish magic was real so that we could just Apparate everywhere?"

Puck grunted in agreement with Blaine's sentiment, but was prevented from saying anything when he looked across the street and saw his husband leaning against their Volvo SUV.

"Morning, gentleman."

"Papa!" Ziva shrieked, waving wildly at the man, as if he couldn't see her.

Puck looked both ways on the street, before leading Ziva and Xander across the street. Blaine followed, hindered by the bags he was holding. Once safely on the other side of the street, Ziva let go of his hand and ran to her papa, who picked her up and twirled her around.

"Hi, baby! Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, Papa! We had so much fun, right, Daddy?"

Kurt snorted at the look Puck sent Ziva, "Did you get any sleep last night, Noah?"

"Some. Hi, babe." He kissed his husband softly, "What are you doing here?"

Kurt shrugged, Ziva still on his hip, "I figured you two would not have gotten enough sleep and the train isn't as reliable on a Saturday, so I drove here. Breakfast is waiting at home. I made bread!"

Puck moaned, "You're a God-send, Kurt."

Kurt smiled, "I know. How's it going, Blaine."

"Much better now that you're here. Thanks so much, Kurt."

"No problem. Now, how about we load the car up. And while we do that, Xander, I want to know what your absolute favorite parts of the party were. And don't be stingy with the details, you hear?"

Blaine and Puck traded glances as Kurt and Xander engaged in the most enthusiastic conversation Xander has had to date. _How did he _do _that?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Thank you to my lovely beta, Alex (**xlessxthanx3x**). This story is dedicated to you for being an inspiration to me and all Puckurtsies! I love you!

* * *

Also, there is a pretty…detailed sex scene in the middle of this chapter. I bolded the first and last lines of the scene, so you can scroll right past it if you don't want to read it!

"What was the point of this again?"

Puck growled in frustration, "I _told_ you, Anderson. Kurt's birthday is in a week and I wanted to surprise him."

"By destroying the backyard?"

Puck glared at the shorter man. The curly haired idiot merely grinned cheekily in response, eyes _probably_ dancing behind the obnoxious pink-rimmed sunglasses he was sporting. "Those shades are fucking gay, dude."

"Ziva likes them. And besides _I'm_ 'fucking gay', _dude_." He paused, "Well, not _currently_ fucking, but I have been known to rock men's worlds."

Puck snorted, "I'm not going to touch that one."

"That's what he said!"

Puck shot a disbelieving look at Blaine before chuckling at the childishly pleased expression that graced the writer's features. Puck shook his head and held out his palm. Blaine stared confusedly at the proffered appendage.

"Don't leave me hangin'. Up top, hobbit."

Understanding finally reached Blaine and he smacked his palm against Puck's outstretched one. "Now that we've reached the 'man' quota, how about we reevaluate your plan to surprise Kurt? Because, as it is now, the only thanks you're going to get for this mess is a bitch slap and divorce papers."

Puck winced and surveyed the damage inflicted on the backyard. Concrete dust was _everywhere_ and part of Kurt's beloved rosebush was crushed under a box of tiles that Puck haphazardly threw on top of it in an effort to avoid hitting _Blaine_ with the box. He sighed; all he wanted was to build the outdoor kitchen Kurt has always wanted.

The interior designer loved entertaining company in their small, but beautiful backyard. They had already put a lot of work into it. Kurt tiled over the dirt lot that existed when they first bought the house two years ago. Along the edge of the tiles was the garden Kurt took care of. Instead of tiling over the entire backyard, Kurt chose to frame the sitting area with a brick-bound garden filled with rosebushes, a small vegetable and herb garden, and even a massive wisteria vine that threatened to over take the back stone wall.

Kurt managed to create a small oasis in the concrete jungle and Puck was about to pave it all to hell with spilled mortar and good intentions. All he wanted to do was construct a small island for food preparation, a sink for clean up, and an outdoor brick oven for things that Kurt would cook on something other than their grill.

It really wasn't a tall order. Not by a long shot. Kurt and Puck pulled off much more complicated home repairs and renovations when they first bought the hundred and two year old brownstone. However, in the past three hours, Puck found out that it was more of a _Kurt_ skill than it was a _Kurt and Puck_ skill. He was quickly losing faith in his and Blaine's ability to pull this off before Kurt's party next week, when they would be having an outdoor cookout to debut the new kitchen.

"Alright. This isn't that bad. Certainly not as disastrous as the time half the Warblers thought that they could redirect the water from the boiler room to the pool to get a heated pool."

"Seriously? Wasn't that school supposed to be super-smart?"

"Hey. Super rich, yes. Super smart, not so guaranteed." Blaine looked over to where they had already constructed the sink. "Speaking of water, want to make sure we assembled the pipes for the sink correctly?"

Puck surveyed the damage done to the rest of the backyard warily, "Might as well."

Blaine turned the faucet for the cold water. The two men waited a beat, listening to the pipes groan and clang. When nothing happened after five seconds, Puck sighed.

"Grea—" Puck's sarcasm was cut off with the sounds of Ziva's shrieking coming from inside the house.

"_DADDY, THE BASEMENT HAS LOTS OF WATER AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM!" _

Puck and Blaine scrambled to get into the house. Their panicked state wasn't so efficient, however, as in their haste, Puck whacked Blaine in the head with the door by accident.

"FUCK!"

Puck winced, "Sorry, dude. That was my bad."

Blaine waved him off, "Forget it. Just get inside!"

"_DON'T WORRY, DADDY. XANDER CAN SWIM AND HE SAYS I CAN SIT ON HIS BACK! THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH FUN!" _

_Fuck this_, Puck thought as he waded in four inches of water. _I'm hiring a contractor. And buying Ziva swimming lessons._

* * *

Five days later, Puck was admiring the finished product as he waited for Blaine and the kids to arrive. The backyard was spotless and now fitted with a brand new kitchen. The basement was de-flooded and the water-damaged furniture was replaced. And, most importantly, Kurt did not know any of this, nor did he suspect a thing.

Puck could thank Kurt's boss for this. The interior designer came home late every night this past week in an effort to do enough work to justify the week he was taking off for his birthday. Burt and Carol were flying in from Ohio and Finn and Mercedes were driving down from Connecticut with their three-year-old daughter. The house was going to be full, but both Puck and Kurt liked it that way.

Kurt's birthday "extravaganza" was tradition at this point. Coming at the end of May, it was the perfect time for family gatherings. Mercedes was done for the semester and all Finn had was grading, which he could do easily anywhere. The New York weather was gorgeous, warm without any of the debilitating humidity that was characteristic of the late summer. So, the family would gather at Kurt and Puck's for a week of fun and relaxation. Kurt would try his hardest to take off a week, and he usually managed to pull it off. Puck's mother and sister would try and make it, but, unfortunately, this year his mother was hosting her sister and her husband for a visit and couldn't leave. Sarah was still coming though, driving down with Mercedes and Finn.

Yup, it was business as usual. The only new factor was Blaine. And Xander. They would fit in nicely.

_Speaking of which, where the hell are they?_ Puck wondered as he glanced at the clock. Blaine left over an hour ago to pick Xander and Ziva up from a friend's house in Bay Ridge. He drove and, even factoring in the fifteen minutes he would have no doubt spent chatting with the parents, Puck figured Blaine should have been back by now. His thoughts were cut off with the sound of the phone ringing.

Without looking at the caller ID, Puck picked up the phone, "Hummel-Puckerman residence."

An unfamiliar female voice replied, "I'm looking for Noah Puckerman."

"You found him."

"Hello, Mr. Puckerman. I'm a nurse in the Emergency Department of Lutheran Hospital—" Puck stopped breathing. He could literally feel the blood draining from his face. He struggled to hear the rest of the sentence over the ringing in his ears.

"—you need to get down here as soon possible."

"Ex—" Puck paused, coughing. His throat was dry, cracking his voice. Puck tried swallowing against the panic and rehydrating his throat, "Excuse me, I didn't catch all of that could you repeat it?" Puck prayed against all hope that this had nothing to do with Blaine being late; that this had nothing to do with his daughter.

"Mr. Puckerman, your daughter was involved in car accident—"

"Is she okay? Was she hurt? Is sh—" Puck couldn't feel his legs.

"Mr. Puckerman! Ziva is fine. She wasn't harmed at all in the accident!"

Puck collapsed to the floor in relief. _Thank God. ThankGodThankGodThankGod._ A thought came to him in his haze of relief, however.

"Wait, what about Blaine? Blaine Anderson and his son Xander? They were involved too, right? Blaine was driving."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Puckerman, but I cannot divulge that information to non-family members over the phone."

Puck swore under his breath. Louder, he said, "Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes."

He hung up the phone and, as he ran around gathering his wallet and car keys, he dialed Kurt's number on his cell.

After two rings, Puck heard, "_Hey, Noah. How's your day going?" _

Puck closed his eyes and prepared himself, "Kurt, Ziva was in a car accident."

"_WHAT?" _Kurt's voice was deafening in pitch and volume. He sounded as hysterical as Puck first felt, "_Is she okay? Is she hurt? Noah, tell me she's not d—_"

"NO!" The thought made him physically ill. "God, _no_, Kurt. She's fine. She's at Lutheran and the nurse who called said that she wasn't injured at all."

"_How did this happen?_" Puck could hear Kurt getting up and scrambling around, putting his things into his bag.

"Ziva and Xander were at a playdate and Blaine went to pick them up. That's all I know."

"_Oh my, God. Are Blaine and Xander okay? Noah, tell me they're okay!"_

"Babe, I wish I could tell you, but the nurse couldn't tell me anything over the phone. I'm driving over to Lutheran right now. Are you coming?"

"_Of course I'm coming, Noah Puckerman!" _Puck winced. Stupid question. "_I'm taking a cab and should be there in forty minutes. Half and hour if there's no traffic and I get the right cab. You better not be talking on the phone while driving, Puckerman!" _

"I'm getting into the car now. I'll see you soon."

"_I love you, Noah._"

Tears welled up in Puck's eyes, "I love you, too."

* * *

Never had Puck wanted to run red lights and speed as much as he did that trip to the hospital. He had more sense, however, considering the circumstances. Thirteen torturous minutes later, he was running into the Emergency Department after haphazardly parking the car a block away.

He ran up to the desk, making his way past the crowd of people that were milling about. The waiting room was packed, not an uncommon sight for a New York City emergency room. It never bothered Puck, until now when he was vying for the receptionist's attention. Once he got it, he frantically tried to explain, "Excuse me, I'm lo—"

"DADDY!"

God bless Ziva's enormous lungs. Puck turned quickly in the direction of Ziva's voice. There she was, running toward him, her green sequined Converse slapping the linoleum floor. Her curls were bouncing and she looked fine. Behind her, Puck could see Xander sitting with a nurse.

Puck ran to meet her halfway and when he reached her, he bent down, allowing her to throw herself at him. Her arms tightened around his neck and he hugged her small body against his chest.

"Thank God, thank God, thank God." Puck was shaking with adrenaline.

Ziva's voice was muffled, her face buried in Puck's shoulder, "I was so scared, Daddy. Everything was so loud and the glass broke and Xander's hand was cut and—"

"Shhh, it's okay, baby. You're okay." Puck ran his hand up and down Ziva's back, hoping to calm her down. When she pulled away, he knew she was okay.

"Daddy, come meet Nurse Kathy! She stayed with us and she's really nice!" Ziva grabbed his hand and lead Puck to where Xander was sitting next to a young brunette woman in purple scrubs.

Xander, who had been watching the two of them walk over, looked up to Puck with red-rimmed eyes. His hazel orbs were filled with fear and it occurred to Puck right then that Blaine was nowhere to be seen.

Puck bent down on one knee so that he and Xander were face to face, "How are you doing, buddy?"

The floodgates burst and Xander threw himself at Puck, not unlike how Ziva did five minutes prior. His tiny frame shook against Puck as he sobbed. Puck wound his arms around him, running one hand up and down his back and the other through his short curls.

"It's going to be okay, buddy." Puck couldn't know that for sure, but Xander needed him to strong right now.

"Daddy was hurt and his head was bleeding and I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn't wake up! Daddy always wakes up for me!"

Puck looked over Xander's head to the nurse, who looked back sympathetically. Puck straightened, standing up. He picked up Xander and held him against his right hip as he asked, "Can you tell me anything?"

Nurse Kathy nodded, "All I know is that Mr. Anderson was taken in for emergency surgery to place a pin in his left arm. The arm was broken on impact and the pin was necessary to set it. The head injury isn't serious. He regained consciousness in the ambulance and it was determined that he did not have a concussion. There was a small cut that required some stitches, but other than that, Mr. Anderson should be fine."

Puck released his thousandth sigh of relief of the day. He looked at Xander, whose head was resting on Puck's shoulder, "Hear that, Xan-man. Your dad is going to be fine!"

Xander relaxed, his little body going limp against Puck. Ziva, who was standing next to Puck, climbed and stood on the chair that was next to them. At her elevated height, she reached over and patted Xander on the back in what was supposed to be a comforting way. "Yeah, Xander! Mr. Blaine is okay!"

Puck chuckled and placed Xander on the floor. He picked Ziva off the chair and also placed her on the floor. Puck gave Ziva his iPhone, "Here, baby. Take this and go play with Xander while I find out more about Mr. Blaine, okay?"

Ziva took the phone in one hand and grabbed Xander with the other. She dragged him to the corner, where she plopped down. "Xander, you can take the first turn on Mario. Just make sure not to hit the Koopas! You'll die and then it'll be my turn!"

Puck smiled at the sight of his daughter proudly watching her friend play the game for what was apparently his first time.

"She's a great friend and a beautiful little girl, sir."

Puck turned to Kathy, "Thank you. And it's Puck, please."

"Kathy." She reached out a hand and Puck shook it.

"Do you know what the hell happened?"

Kathy's pretty face clouded over, "Yes." Her voice was tight with what seemed like anger. Puck's stomach clenched in anticipation. "It seems that Mr. Anderson was driving through an intersection when someone ran through a red light and hit Mr. Anderson's car at the driver's seat door."

Puck sucked in a sharp breath, "So he was hit directly?"

Kathy nodded, "At fifty miles an hour."

"_What?_" That couldn't be right. Blaine was taking a local route home. The speed limit within the Brooklyn city limits was thirty miles per hour.

Kathy's voice was scathing, "The driver of the other car was drunk."

The blood drained from Puck's face again, "No. Tell me that's not true."

"He's being treated for minor injuries right now. My friend did his blood work. His BAC was well above the legal limit. The police are holding him in a room down the hall."

"Don't tell me that. Don't tell me that unless you want me marching down there and beating him to a bloody pulp and there won't be any need for a trial."

Kathy placed a gentle hand on his arm, "Don't think about that, okay? Focus on the fact that your daughter and friends are okay and that it could have been so much worse."

Puck nodded, "Thank you so much for looking after Ziva and Xander. And for telling me what was going on."

"It's no problem. I'll leave you with the kids, now." She reached back to the chair she was occupying and picked up a clipboard off the seat. She handed it to Puck, along with a pen that she pulled out of her top pocket. "I just need you to fill out this information. Since Ziva wasn't treated for anything, _we_ don't need any of her information, but it will be helpful for the police report. Once Mr. Anderson is out of surgery, he can fill out his and Xander's."

Puck thanked her and after she left, sat in the chair heavily. He sat there with the clipboard in his lap, watching Ziva and Xander play, unmoving. Puck sat there for an undetermined amount of time until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up, his eyes caught the blue-green gaze that could only belong to one person.

"Kurt." The name was breathed out in a reverent prayer. So much could be heard in that one syllable. Relief, gratitude, exhaustion, awe were layered into Puck's whisper. The name rested on his lips, heavy with history. History of them, of their love, of this day.

Kurt pressed his lips to Puck's in a gentle kiss. Breaking away, he rested his forehead on Puck's, both their eyes closed.

"I talked to Kathy." Puck felt Kurt's words on his face. "She says Blaine will be out of surgery in an hour."

Puck nodded, eyes still closed. He felt the loss of Kurt's head on top of his, but also felt the replacement of Kurt's hand running along his shaved head.

"I see from her badgering of Xander that Ziva is completely okay."

Puck opened his eyes and looked into Kurt's mirth-filled gaze, "And you can see by how Xander is letting her do it, that he's completely fine as well."

"Except for his left hand."

Puck whirled around to inspect Xander from his seat. Sure enough, his left hand was bandaged. Puck walked over to them, aware of Kurt at his heels.

Ziva and Xander looked up at the sight of Puck's feet before them. Ziva's eyes widened at the sight of Kurt, "Papa! You're here!"

Kurt knelt down to give Ziva a hug, "Yes, I am. Now let's have a look at you." He leaned back, scrutinizing Ziva with hilarious exaggeration. "Let's see. Still have both eyes." Kurt placed a small kiss on each of Ziva's lidded eyes. "Both cheeks." He kissed each of those at well, Ziva giggling furiously. "One nose!" Kurt rubbed his nose against Ziva's, his Eskimo kiss going awry as both parties giggled too hard.

Puck smiled at the sight and turned to Xander, who was also watching Kurt and Ziva's antics. "Hey, Xan-man. What happened to your hand?"

Xander shrugged, "I cut it on some glass when I tried shaking Daddy awake." The image of a hysterical Xander shaking a prone, bleeding Blaine struck Puck in the heart and his stomach bottomed out.

He pulled Xander into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, buddy. Does it hurt?"

Xander's response was weak, "A little. But Kathy gave me some medicine. She says it'll stop hurting soon."

Kurt reached over and kissed Xander's cheek, "Well, we'll have to make you feel better with something else."

"Excellent idea. Who wants ice cream?" Xander and Ziva lit up at Puck's words and Kurt and Puck burst into laughter.

"Ice cream. The magical cure for everything that ails ya'," Kurt stood up and reached out both his hands to the kids. Xander took one while Ziva took the other. "Ready, Noah?"

Puck shook his head, "I've got to fill these sheets out and I wanted to wait around in case the doctor has any updates on Blaine."

"I can stay here and you can go with the kids. You look tired, Noah," Kurt said.

"Go ahead, babe. I don't mind. Just bring me back coffee if you can." Kurt nodded and kissed Puck quickly on the lips.

"Call me if anything changes. I have my cell and we'll be right across the street, okay?"

"Will do, princess." Puck watched as his husband walked toward the elevator, two kids on either side of him. He sunk into the chair again, this time actually working on the paperwork.

* * *

Half an hour later, Kathy came over to where Puck was rechecking the information he wrote down for the fifth time. With her was a black woman in green scrubs and a white lab coat.

"Puck, this is Doctor Davis. She's the surgeon that took care of Mr. Anderson."

Puck held out a hand, which the doctor shook, "Thank you so much. Really, I can't say thanks enough."

Doctor Davis smiled, "It's my job. Glad to do it. Now, I understand you aren't a blood relative of Mr. Anderson's."

"No, ma'am. But his husband is overseas, his parents are in Ohio, and his sister is in Colorado. My husband and I are the closest thing Blaine's got to family here in New York. I swear we go way back. Actually, he dated my husband. Before he was my husband, that is."

Kathy snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough. It was unconvincing. Puck winced.

Doctor Davis smirked, "Because the prognosis doesn't require any decisions to be made and he is going to need someone to look after him for the time being, I will inform you of the extent of Mr. Anderson's injuries and allow you to see him."

At Puck's nod, she continued, "His left ulna and radius were broken. It was a clean break, however, with no pieces floating around anywhere. That was lucky. Unfortunately, with breaks like these, we need to make sure the bone will heal correctly. Putting in the pin was the only way we can keep the pieces in the right orientation so the break can heal cleanly. The only other injury he sustained was a cut to his forehead, but that only required thirteen stitches. We checked for concussion and found no sign of one."

"Anderson always did have a thick skull," Puck's jab was softened by the obvious relief he felt at the news. "So he's going to be completely fine?"

"In eight weeks, yes. The cast we have him on now is plaster and heavy. In about four weeks, I'll take it off and replace it with a lighter one. In eight to ten weeks, his arm will be completely healed. Do you know when his husband will be back?"

Puck shook his head, "I don't think it's definite yet. I think the last estimate was the first week of July."

Doctor Davis nodded in understanding, "He'll need someone to help out at first. It takes some time to adjust oneself around with one arm out of commission. It's not necessary, but—"

"No worries, Doc. Pretty Boy will have me and Kurt. We're his next door neighbors and he'll spend tonight at our place."

The doctor smiled, "Excellent. Okay, I'll give you his prescription for his pain meds. You can fill this out at any pharmacy. The restrictions will be made clear by the pharmacist. Mr. Anderson will be discharged as soon as he wakes up, provided the police get his statement. It shouldn't be long now."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course. Kathy, will you escort Mr. Puckerman to Mr. Anderson's room. 3103."

"Will do, Samantha."

Puck shook the doctor's hand again, "Thank you so much, Doc."

"My pleasure, Mr. Puckerman. Tell Mr. Anderson I'll see him in four weeks."

Kathy led Puck down the hall and to the elevator. As they waited for the next lift, Puck typed out a quick text to Kurt. _Blaine's in Room 3103. Come when you're done. I don't think he's awake yet. _

Five seconds later, his phone beeped with Kurt's response.

_Be there in ten. Ziva made friends with a Doberman. I'm having trouble getting her away. Why is it our daughter who looks at a killer attack dog that is twice her size and says CUTE? I thought it was going to eat her, but it only licked ice cream off her hand and face._

Puck laughed out loud. What the fuck was he going to do when Ziva was a teenager?

* * *

Walking into Blaine's hospital room was a challenge. Puck was not looking forward to see a friend of his in a hospital bed, but it needed to be done. The sight wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

Blaine looked so small in the white bed, but he was a hobbit. His sleeping face was bruised, slightly, and the stitches stood out, stark against his pale forehead. His arm was cradled against his body, enveloped in a large, white cast and a sling. Other than the obvious, Puck couldn't see much of a difference in Blaine, which would be a welcome relief to Xander, he was sure.

Five minutes passed with Puck sitting silently in the chair beside Blaine's bed. After a moment, Puck could have sworn he heard something shift. He got up to take a closer look at Blaine and, sure enough, his (ridiculously long) eyelashes were fluttering open.

"Ugh, did anyone get the license plate of that truck?"

"We did you one better, Anderson. We got the driver of the Camry."

Blaine's expression was groggy, clearly fighting off the anesthesia. A couple of seconds later, his face lit up in what had to be clarity. He started, sitting up quickly.

Puck gently pushed him down by the shoulders, "Shhhh, relax. Xander's fine. Ziva's fine. Everyone is fine, except for you, okay? You need to take—"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't see him, I swear. Maybe I was going too fast. Puck, I am SO sorry." Blaine's eyes were filling up with tears, his voice weak.

Puck expected this. "No, Blaine. Don't be sorry." The tears spilled over and were coursing down Blaine's face now. "It was not your fault." Puck grabbed Blaine's shoulders, mindful of his arm. He waited until Blaine looked up at him.

Puck bore his gaze into Blaine's, trying as hard as possible to convey his feelings, "It. Was. _Not_. Your. Fault. You did nothing wrong. The accident happened because some _asshole_ got drunk, got into a car, and blew a red light. You couldn't have known, Blaine."

Blaine's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in shock, "What?"

"Drunk driver. You couldn't have avoided it. And Ziva and Xander were in their booster seats, safe. Your arm is broken and is going to take two months to heal, but you're fine otherwise. Sore as hell, I'd bet."

"We were hit by a _drunk driver_?" Blaine's face transformed from one of contrition to one of rage. "Xander and Ziva could have _died_ because of a _drunk driver_?" He sat up again, ripping off his covers with his good hand. "Where is he? Is he in this hospital?_ I'll_ _kill him!"_

Puck held him back, "Hold on, Rambo. You're not going anywhere. The police caught the guy. He's going to jail and that's the end of it. We don't need you going to prison for murder."

Blaine's rage wasn't so easily dismissed, "Don't you understand, Puck?" His eyes were blazing. "Ziva, your _daughter_, could have died because of this asshole."

"You think I don't know that?" Puck's voice was louder than he intended it to be, but he couldn't help it. "You think that thought didn't cross my mind?" Blaine's glare didn't soften, but Puck quieted down anyway. "But she didn't. She and Xander are fine. You're going to be fine. Everyone's okay and the asshole will never get a chance to do this to anyone else ever again. I can't ask for more than that."

Blaine locked gazes with Puck, breathing heavily. Suddenly, his anger melted away to something like quiet disbelief. Puck was confused.

"You sure grew up, didn't you, Puck?"

Puck laughed, shocked, "Fuck you, Anderson. Just because I wasn't a fucking old man at age eighteen doesn't mean I wasn't mature."

"No, the fact that your mother still washed your hair at age eighteen means you weren't mature."

"I _knew_ Kurt told you that!"

"I told him what now?" Blaine and Puck whipped their heads around to see Kurt, Ziva, and Xander standing in the doorway of the room.

"DAD!" Xander let go of Kurt's hand and ran to his father's bed. Blaine got off the bed and knelt down to wrap his arm around Xander, who hugged his father's neck desperately.

"I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry." Blaine was crying openly into Xander's curls.

Xander tightened his hold on his father, "It's okay now that you're awake."

Kurt and Puck shared at look, before Puck picked up Ziva and held her against him, "Amen to that." Kurt smiled.

"Who wants coffee?"

* * *

Blaine's discharge was a long process, from dealing with the police to filling out the necessary paperwork for the hospital. It was nearly midnight by the time Puck and Blaine got into Puck's car, Kurt having left with the kids hours ago.

"I'm exhausted, hungry, and in pain. This day blows."

Puck helped him with the seat belt, did his own, and started the car. "Truth, man," he concurred as he pulled out of the parking spot. "But Kurt just ordered us Chinese and we're going to stop by the 24-hour CVS to pick up your pain meds. In an hour, you'll be fed, doped up on drugs, and in the guest bedroom, nary a worry in the world."

"Are you sure it's okay for me to stay in your guest room? It'll only be tonight, I'll be out before Burt, Carol, Finn and Mercedes get here, I promise."

Puck glared at him, "It's fine, Anderson. Calm your tits, okay? You'll stay at ours until you can manage yourself without help. Worst case scenario, the guests can check into a hotel."

Blaine blanched, "Are you out of your mind? Why on Earth would they stay in a hotel when there is a nearly empty house next door?"

Puck couldn't believe he didn't think of that, "That's perfect! Burt and Carol can stay with us and Finn and Mercedes can stay with you. Or whatever you prefer. Either way, Mercedes doesn't need to sleep on the couch!"

Blaine snorted, "As if I'd allow Mercedes Jones to sleep on a couch. Hell, I'd sleep _outside_ before that happened."

"Aw, you dapper gentleman, you."

"Seriously, however this works out, everyone gets to sleep in a bed for the next week."

Puck held out his fist, which Blaine bumped with his own. "Baller, dude. We're the best fucking hosts ever."

* * *

True enough, an hour later, Blaine was sprawled out in the guest bedroom, dead to the world. Kurt and Puck were laying on the couch in the living room, a mug of chamomile tea shared between them.

"Next time I ask you if you want a cup of tea, Noah, just say yes! Don't steal half of mine!"

Puck told a deliberately long sip of tea before handing the mug back to Kurt, who was sprawled on top of him, "But it tastes better with your saliva in it."

"Gross, Noah! How did I marry someone so gross?"

"Beats me. I still wonder how I married someone who has ninety one pairs of shoes," Puck smirked.

"I only had eighty when you married me. And besides, you don't complain when I wear the thigh high lace-up boots to bed."

Puck groaned, arousal stirring in his lower body at the memory of Kurt wearing those stilettos and _only _those stilettos, "Don't do this to me, babe. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I'm too tired for a fuck right now."

Kurt chuckled, "My, how the mighty have fallen!"

"Spending seven hours in a hospital isn't my idea of foreplay, so sue me."

Kurt's mirth sobered, "You did good today, Noah. Hell, you do _fabulously_ everyday."

Puck bathed in Kurt's praise. He knew his husband appreciated him, but it felt awesome to hear it said out loud. "So do you, babe. You're amazing."

Kurt hummed, resting his head back on Puck's chest, "It was nice spending time with Ziva and Xander today. They crack me up. Mercedes is going to have a field day."

Puck smiled at the thought, "Speaking of which, where did you put Xander? Did you break out the air mattress?"

Kurt sent him an incredulous look, "Are you insane? I put him in Ziva's bed!"

Puck sat up in shock, knocking Kurt off the couch. "Ow! What the hell, Noah? You are _so_ lucky I finished my tea!" Kurt squawked.

"Ziva is sleeping with a _boy in her bed!"_

"_They're five, Noah!"_

"_He's six!"_

"You've _got_ to be joking!" Kurt glared and Puck knew that was the end of it.

"Fine, but this is the last time until she's married!"

Kurt's eyebrow rose in challenge, "Really? And what if she's gay? Will you let a girl sleep in her bed?"

"If she's anything like Santana, _fuck no_."

Kurt got off the floor, grabbed his mug, and walked out of the room shaking his head, "I'm going to bed, you hypocrite."

Puck raced after him, "If you want Ziva to end up with someone like _me, _then please, continue doing what you're doing!"

He wasn't surprised when Kurt smacked him upside the head.

* * *

**Two mornings later, Puck's alarm went off at five-thirty.** He hurried to shut it off before it woke anyone else up. It took him a second to remember why he chose to wake up at such an ungodly hour. One look at his husband's sleeping form cleared the confusion up instantly.

Puck knew the smile that graced his face could only be described as shark-like in nature, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't often that he got to do this. In fact, he usually kept it to Kurt's birthday and once a year wasn't nearly enough for this kind of fun. But that might be why it was so fun. Kind of like Christmas. Or Halloween.

_Okay, getting way off track, here. Let's do this._

Kurt was on his back, arms splayed on the bed. In the night, it seemed, Kurt got too warm and threw off his covers. Easier access for Puck, that was for sure. Kurt's pale, bare stomach leapt under his featherlike-touch, and he pressed a kiss to the light-brown trail of fuzz leading from Kurt's bellybutton into his boxer briefs before his fingers snagged the waistband and drew it downward. The boxers rolled off of Kurt's hips with little resistance.

Puck's lips traced a path down from Kurt's bellybutton to his hips, those once razor-sharp hips softened by time, round and gorgeous above his husband's stomach, and he scraped the flesh with his teeth as his hand skimmed over Kurt's right thigh and moved upward. His slipped his thumb and index finger under the Kurt's balls so that his palm cupped his perineum, and he suckled hard and fast on the flesh of the hip in his mouth, leaving a deep purple mark. Kurt's morning erection brushed warm and soft against his cheek, and Puck turned to run his nose along the hard shaft. Kurt shifted in his slumber and exclaimed wordlessly when Puck's hand, still palming his scrotum, applied a bit of pressure and stimulated his prostate.

Puck laughed soundlessly into the hair at the base of Kurt's cock, and he swiped the tip of his tongue where the shaft met Kurt's scrotum. This was as far as he got last year before Kurt woke up, moaning Puck's name. He checked, but Kurt's eyes were still closed in sleep. Not for long.

Puck swallowed Kurt whole, taking all of him into his mouth and throat and pressing his lips to the base of his cock.

"_NOAH!_"

Puck smirked. Half asleep and he still got the name right. Damn, he was good. Kurt was cursing loudly spreading his legs and literally whining for more. Puck chuckled around his cock and Kurt sobbed, "Oh my, _God_. Noah." His hands came down and scrambled for purchase on Puck's shaved head.

Puck pushed with his palm again, and the prostate stimulation got Kurt writhing so hard that the fitted sheet came out from under the mattress and tangled around them. He thrust up into Puck's willing throat, moaning, "_Fuck_. Noah, that's so fucking good." His hips were pistoning now and Puck relaxed his throat to accommodate Kurt's length.

Kurt's hands went from the top of his head to grabbing him by the ears. He not so gently tugged Puck until he lifted himself off of Kurt's cock. Kurt dragged him by his ears until they were face to face. There, Kurt pressed their lips together, shoving his tongue into Puck's mouth.

Puck moaned, thrusting his ignored erection into the soft skin of Kurt's belly. Puck rutted against Kurt, swirling his tongue around Kurt's. His left hand came up to Kurt's chest, twisting his nipple savagely.

Kurt broke the kiss with a gasp, "Noah, _fuck me." _

Puck was having difficulty forming words, his hips humping Kurt's body uncontrollably. "Not today, princess," he whispered breathily. With great effort, he pulled himself off Kurt and grabbed the lube from the bedside drawer.

"Noah, _please."_ Puck looked back to Kurt and moaned.

Kurt was stroking himself, pupils blown in arousal. His cheeks were on fire, his lips bruised from kissing. The hand that wasn't on his cock was down between his legs, fingering his hole.

"You are the hottest fucking man that ever fucking _existed._"

Kurt's reply was a whining moan, "So _fuck me_ already!"

Puck chuckled, "Watch, babe." He waited until Kurt's nearly black gaze connected with his own before coating his fingers with lube. Throwing the bottle at the pillow near Kurt's head, Puck got on his knees and, under Kurt's watchful gaze, reached back his lube-slicked hand and thrust two fingers into his hole.

"Holy _fuck._" Kurt's mouth dropped open and his eyes shut closed as his head slammed back into the pillows, thrusting his cock severely in the tight grip of his fist.

"Don't—oh, _God_—come yet," Puck stuttered as his fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive place inside him. He added a third finger and, at the sight of Kurt writhing unrestrained, his cock spurted pre-come.

"If you don't get on me _right fucking now_, I _swear_ I will divorce you, Noah Isaac Hummel-Puckerman." Kurt glared at Puck, his hand now flying furiously on his dick.

Puck removed the fingers from his ass before crawling over to Kurt. He slapped Kurt's hand away from his dick before straddling his slim hips.

Kurt met his gaze with eyes swimming in arousal. Puck stared into them as he reached behind him and positioned Kurt at his entrance. He waited a beat before sitting down on Kurt's hard cock.

Kurt's breath caught as he was enveloped by Puck's body, his cock dragging along Puck's inner walls. They groaned in unison as Kurt's balls touched Puck's ass.

Kurt reached up and buried his nails in Puck's hips, and his eyes rolled back as Puck began bouncing himself atop him, one of his hands wrapped around his own cock and stroking it in time with every lift and fall.

Kurt was writhing and twisting under Puck, his hips occasionally jerking hard upward as Puck began each downward descent. This never got old. They've been together for nearly ten years now and the feel of the head of Kurt's cock dragging along Puck's prostate will _always_ get Puck shaking.

Kurt _keened _as Puck clenched around him, hips stuttering as he took in the added stimulation. Puck took a second to take it all in. Kurt's back and neck were arched, head planted in the pillow and eyes half lidded. His cheeks were flooded with color and mouth open as he gasped and shuddered. A drop of sweat poured down the side of his face before Puck reached over and caught it with his tongue.

Kurt's grip on his waist tightened and Puck knew it wouldn't be long before he came. Puck arched his back and reached back with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around Kurt's scrotum, giving it a soft, caressing squeeze, and just before he knew Kurt was about to come, he brought his finger up to his mouth, soaking it in saliva before he moved it downward and slipped it deep within Kurt and pressed against his prostate.

Kurt was gone. His eyes slammed shut as he thrust his cock into Puck with so much force, Puck almost fell off. Puck could feel Kurt's come spurting in him and did not stop riding him for a second. Kurt jerked and spasmed beneath him while he came, cursing and chanting Puck's name. At a particularly hard thrust, Kurt hit Puck's prostate directly and white-hot heat spread up his spine.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK, _KURT_!" He yelled without restraint, all of his muscles tightening almost impossibly around Kurt as he came so forcefully that jet after jet of white splattered his chest and the underside of his chin.

Shaking with the force of his orgasm, Puck collapsed on the bed next to Kurt, where he wrapped one arm around Kurt's chest. Kurt turned so that their chests were touching and brought his lips to Puck's for a lazy kiss.

"Happy Birthday, princess."

Kurt sighed and buried his face in the crook of Puck's neck, "Best birthday sex _ever_."

Puck grinned, _mission accomplished_. "Go back to sleep, babe. We have a couple of hours before we have to be up."

**Kurt hummed with contentment and it wasn't long before the both of them drifted off to sleep.**

* * *

A knock on their bedroom door awoke them. Hazy with sleep, Puck couldn't put together who would be knocking on their door. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was eight-thirty.

"Yes?" Kurt's voice was groggy.

"_Not to disturb you or anything, but Ziva wanted to come wish Kurt 'Happy birthday'."_

Puck and Kurt started. Kurt pulled the covers to cover them up reflexively, "No! Blaine, don't let her in here!"

Blaine's voice was wry, _"I had a feeling that was going to be the case. Her and Xander are in the kitchen, decorating the table for your birthday breakfast. Just wanted to give you time to…clean up before pancakes."_ His pause was enough indication that he knew the exact state they were in.

"Anderson, you're a God-send," Puck fell back against the pillows in relief.

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah._" Puck could hear Blaine's footsteps walking down the hall and he turned to give Kurt a kiss before he was slapped against the chest.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Kurt glared, "We had sex when Blaine was down the hall! He probably heard the entire thing!" His face was red in embarrassment.

"Kurt, he probably heard less down the hall than he would have if was sleeping in his own bed." Puck remembered the first night Blaine moved in very well.

Kurt's eyes widened and it occurred to Puck then that he had no idea Blaine's bedroom was on the other side of their wall. "What do you mean by that?"

Puck winced and explained. Kurt gasped, hands flying to his face, "You mean, Blaine has heard every time we've ever had sex?"

Puck nodded and Kurt moaned, "Oh my, God. He must think we're wanton whores!"

"Hey! We're married, okay? It's perfectly Kosher for us to fuck like bunnies, first of all. Second, if you want to feel badly about something, feel bad that he's only had the company of his right hand for the past month."

Kurt groaned, "I can't believe this is happening!"

"I don't get why you're so upset," Puck paused at the sight of Kurt's glare. "Are you ashamed of us?"

"No!" Kurt cried. "I'd never—it's just that, you know how I feel about sex. I don't like anyone knowing or hearing _anything_ about me or us."

"Tough cookies, babe. But, if it makes you feel any better, once Anderson's husband comes back, they can return the favor." He wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it, laughing. "You're _horrible_, Noah Puckerman."

"Lies!" Puck smiled as he pulled Kurt on top of him, Kurt giggling the entire way. "And it's Noah _Hummel_-Puckerman to _you_, buddy."

"Of course it is." Kurt lowered his face to Puck's in a deep kiss. After a minute of solid making-out, Kurt pulled away.

"Come on. We need to shower and head down for breakfast."

Puck's eyes lit up, "Shower sex?"

"How are you not satisfied by that fuck we had not even three hours ago?" Kurt got off the bed and went into the walk in closet, remerging with two towels.

"That was three whole hours ago!" Puck whined half-heartedly.

Kurt's expression was sly, "How about I let you give me a blow-job and allow you to jerk yourself off on your knees?"

Puck's cock jumped to attention, "Deal."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, they were laughing as they raced each other down the stairs to the kitchen. Puck pulled ahead, but Kurt shoved past him, making it through the doorway first at the last second.

"I won!"

"You cheated! Pulling my shirt isn't allowed, Kurt!"

Kurt smirked, "Don't be a sore loser, Noah."

"Yeah, don't be a sore loser, Puck." Puck finally noticed the other occupant of the kitchen. Blaine was smirking, good hand twirling a spatula as he stood by the stovetop making pancakes.

Kurt was blushing, "Thank you, Blaine. For waking us up and making breakfast."

Blaine smiled, "It's no problem. Happy Birthday, Kurt!" He put down the spatula and reached over to give Kurt a one-armed hug. Kurt, mindful of the sling, wrapped both arms around the shorter man and squeezed.

"Thank you."

As Blaine pulled back, Puck could see a devilish glint in his eyes, "It sounded like you were having a great day already."

Puck burst into laughter as Kurt's face exploded in red. He watched as his husband picked up a dishtowel and smacked a laughing Blaine with it.

The sound of small feet running reached Puck's ears and the three occupants of the kitchen turned to see Ziva running out of the breakfast nook, toward them. Xander trailed after her more slowly.

"Happy Birthday, Papa!" She ran to Kurt, who bent down to pick her up. Ziva immediately hugged his neck and placed a kiss on both cheeks.

"Thank you, baby!"

"We made you breakfast! Mr. Blaine made chocolate chip pancakes because I told him it was your favorite and I folded the napkins and Xander poured the orange juice! I know I'm not supposed to, but he's really good at it! He didn't spill once!"

"Alright, my main man!" Puck cheered and offered Xander a hand. Xander slapped it, grinning.

"Happy Birthday, Mr. Kurt."

Kurt placed Ziva on the floor and reached over to place a kiss on Xander's cheek. The young boy immediately blushed.

"Thank you, Xander. And thank you for helping with breakfast."

"You're welcome," he mumbled before running over to his father's legs. He tugged at Blaine's T-shirt until Blaine bent down so that Xander could whisper in his ear.

"Not right now, Xander. We'll give it to him later at the party. But you can give him your drawing now, if you want," Blaine replied to Xander's hushed inquiry.

Puck watched as Xander raced to the living room. Ziva ran after him. A couple of seconds later, they both returned with sheets of construction paper in their hands.

"Here, Papa! Xander and I drew these for you!"

Kurt was beaming as he accepted both drawings, "Wow! Would you look at these? We have junior Picasso's in the making." He paused and scrutinized Xander's more carefully. "Well, one Picasso and one Monet, if the colors on this one were any indication."

Puck and Blaine laughed and the kids giggled at Kurt's put on tone. "My dad told me that snapdragon flowers were your favorite and he helped me find a picture of them on the computer. I copied the picture with my coloring pencils." His eyes were on the floor the entire time, his foot tracing an imaginary path. Puck held back his laughter. Xander's shyness was _adorable_.

Kurt's eyes were shining and he pulled Xander in for a hug. "Thank you, Xander. It's a beautiful drawing."

Xander returned the hug and pulled back, a smile stretching his face. He beamed at the praise and Puck could see Blaine grinning out of the corner of his eye.

"Mine's not as nice as Xander's, because he's a better artist. But I drew you a picture of a cake because it's your birthday!"

Kurt kissed the top of Ziva's head. "I can see that! And it's beautiful, too, Ziva. Both these pictures are going up on the wall in my office."

Ziva squealed, "Really, Papa?"

"Of course! All my co-workers are going to be so jealous that I have original Ziva and Xander drawings and they don't!"

Ziva giggled and hugged his legs, "Don't be mean to them, Papa. Tell them if they want some, we can draw more!"

Kurt put his hands on his hips, looking down at Ziva with mock-frustration, "How will I be special then?"

"You have me as a daughter!" Puck and Blaine burst into hysterical laughter as Kurt picked up Ziva and twirled her around.

"Your daughter might be the only person in the world more sassier than you are, Kurt!" Blaine was wiping tears of mirth off his face.

"I surprisingly have no objections to that," Kurt replied, setting Ziva down again.

Blaine handed Kurt the plate of pancakes from inside the oven, where he had been keeping them warm. He handed Puck he syrup and picked up the butter dish for himself, "Shall we eat?"

* * *

After a breakfast filled with teasing and laughter, Blaine was wiping down the table while Kurt and Puck were washing the dishes. Xander and Ziva retreated to her room to go play. The doorbell halted all their activities.

Kurt turned to Puck, incredulous, "That can't be Finn and Mercedes OR my Dad and Carol!"

Puck shrugged, going to answer the door, "I could be Finn and 'Cedes, they could have left early."

When he opened the door, his jaw dropped open. On his front step stood Burt, Carol, Sarah, Finn, and Mercedes, who was holding their three-year old daughter, Sasha.

"Surprise!" they chorused, grinning at Puck's stunned expression.

"Babe, who is—" Kurt, who had come up behind Puck, stopped suddenly. "What are you all _doing _here?"

"Happy Birthday!" they chorused again.

"Mohawk, mind stepping aside so we can come in and I can hug my son?" Puck scrambled aside, allowing Burt to pass the threshold and garb Kurt in a large hug. Kurt laughed and returned the embrace.

"Dad, what are you doing here so early? Your plane was supposed to be leaving the gate right about now?"

Burt shrugged, letting go of Kurt so that Carol could hug him. Kurt beamed as she kissed him and wished him a happy birthday. "We were flying on standby anyway and got to the airport early. There was a plane available right then, so we took it."

Finn hugged Kurt after his mother, "And then he called me and 'Cedes. We were awake anyway because of Sash, so we decided to load up the car and leave right away."

"We got to JFK right as their plane landed. It worked out perfectly!" Mercedes maneuvered herself around so that she could embrace Kurt without letting go of Sasha.

"Happy Birthday, Uncle Kurt!" Sasha reached out for him and Kurt gladly accepted her from her mother.

"Thank you, Sasha-bear. Oooh, it's so good to see you!" He peppered her giggling face with kisses and hugged her tightly.

"Hey! No love for me?" Kurt rolled his eyes at Sarah's complaint.

"Twenty-one years old and you still act like a child. What am I going to do with you Puckermans?"

"Marry them?" Puck and Sarah said in unison, cheekiness apparent. Puck laughed and turned to high five his sister before pulling her into a hug.

"How's it feel to be done with your junior year at Wes, sis?" He asked as he ushered in the clan, shutting the door behind him.

Sarah groaned, "Don't remind me! I don't want to have to deal with the thought of being a senior. Or worse, a real adult." She took a second to glare at Mercedes, "And I'd feel much better about it if some Nazi-dictator government professor didn't give me a B in her class."

Puck laughed, "Go Professor Jones!"

Mercedes rolled her eyes, "Stop being so dramatic, Sarah. It was a B+ and you can't deny the fact that your final paper was mediocre at best."

Finn and Kurt winced in unison. "Harsh, 'Cedes," Finn said as he kissed the top of her head.

Sarah deflated, "No, she's right. But in my defense, that Biochem final nearly killed me."

"And you got an A in that class. It's all about redirecting your efforts, babe. And since you're applying to med school, I think an A in Biochem will outshine the B+ in some silly little gov class."

Sarah was affronted, "Silly little gov class? Are you kidding, Mercedes? That class was the _bomb_."

Mercedes preened, "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make you feel better."

"If you two are done kissing each other's asses, maybe you'd realize that Kurt's been trying to reintroduce you all to Anderson for the past five minutes." Puck grinned at the sight of Blaine awkwardly shuffling in the doorway of the kitchen, dishtowel slung over his shoulder. Kurt glared at Puck from next to Blaine.

"My crass Neanderthal of a husband aside, I would like to reintroduce you all to Blaine. Do you remember Blaine?"

Finn pushed past the crowd, "We're not that old, dude! Hey, Blaine it's been a long time!" He engulfed Blaine in one of his customary hugs.

"Hey, Finn. Yeah, it's been too long," Blaine laughed as he returned the embrace.

Mercedes greeted him next, "Where have you been? I know Kurt and Puck invited you to their wedding all those years ago."

"My husband and I were actually out of the country on our honeymoon. We had a small wedding and hightailed it to Europe for the summer," Blaine replied, moving from Mercedes to hug Carol.

"Still, it's so good to see you sweetie. And what great luck that you moved in next door!"

"Yeah, _great_ luck," Puck snarked at Carol's sentiment. "We were _thrilled_."

Kurt motioned to Sarah, "I have a child in my hands, so I'd rather not. Sarah, do me the honor of hitting your brother, will you?"

Puck recoiled as his sister complied with glee. "Geez, I was just joking. Anderson's my bro now and besides, it's me that helps him get dressed and undressed everyday. Where have you been, Kurt?"

Kurt raised one eyebrow at him, "You won't allow me to help because you don't want me to see Blaine half-naked, if I recall correctly."

Puck had the courtesy to blush as Blaine glared at him, "Oh, yeah."

Burt shook his head after giving Blaine a one armed hug, "Where did I go wrong, allowing my boy to marry that?"

"You love me, old man."

"No, I love the grandchild you bestowed me with. Speaking of which, where is she?"

Almost as if on cue, the crowd of people in the living room could hear the distinct noise of Ziva flying down the stairs.

"THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE. XANDER, COME MEET MY GRANDPA AND GRANDMA AND MY AUNT MERCEDES AND UNCLE FINN AND AUNT SARAH AND SASHA!"

Burt smiled widely as he caught Ziva, who made a wild leap off the stairs, "There she is! One of my two favorite granddaughters!"

"Grandpa, you only have two granddaughters!"

"How lucky am I that they're both great?"

Sarah, who was rubbing the inside of her ear, winced, "Still haven't managed to teach her the concept of an indoor voice yet?"

Puck shrugged, "Can't beat genetics. And she is Kurt's daughter, after all."

Sarah smacked him. "Kurt told me to," she offered by way of explanation. Puck turned to see his husband giving Sarah a thumbs up. Puck stuck his tongue out at him as Sarah turned to Blaine.

"Sorry, didn't get a chance to introduce myself. I'm Sarah, Noah's younger sister."

Blaine shook her hand, "Blaine Anderson. Next door neighbor and friend, sometimes."

"And ex-boyfriend of Kurt." Puck glared at his sister. "Does my brother resent you at all?"

Puck clamped a hand over his sister's mouth, "Ignore the spawn. I do."

Blaine waved it off, grinning, "Believe me. I know the pain of sisters. It's worse when they're older."

"I feel you, dude-bro." They fistbumped and shared a smirk as Sarah's muffled protests took on a louder volume.

"HEY, EVERYBODY!" Puck turned, along with everyone else, to his daughter, who had finished greeting her family and was now on the stairs. "THIS IS MY BEST FRIEND, XANDER. HE'S SIX AND REALLY NICE."

Xander was trying to hide behind the banister, his face red at the gaze of that many pairs of eyes. Puck saw Mercedes and Finn share a smile and Carol coo. Blaine was shaking his head, "I don't understand how two people who are that different get along so well."

Puck laughed, "Beats me."

They both grinned as the family took cautious steps toward bringing Xander out of his shell by introducing themselves.

Sarah broke free of Puck's hold, "I'm about to fall asleep right here. Do you have any coffee?"

* * *

The rest of the day was spent getting ready for the evening's festivities. The adults divided their time between food and backyard preparation and getting the guests settled in. It was decided that Blaine and Xander would remain staying with Kurt and Puck and the two couples would take over the bedrooms of Blaine's house. Sarah was going to camp out in Xander's room, only after she tickled Xander's permission out of him. He was already warming up to Ziva's extended family, making quick friends out of Sarah, Sasha, and Finn, who had a habit of winning over little kids with piggy-back rides.

Kurt, who still had not been outside and had not seen the outdoor kitchen, was washing the vegetables for the salad in the sink, while Puck was getting the grill started. Blaine was putting finishing touches on the cake. Finn and Mercedes were napping next door and Sasha, who was positively adored by Ziva, was playing the junior detective in Ziva and Xander's ongoing mystery. The three were scouting around the house in search of "clues" that Puck had laid out for them. He grinned to himself as he thought about the final destination, which was of course the cake.

It was five o'clock when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" Sarah called out as she went to open the door.

Puck's ears picked up the sound of excited squealing and he knew before his sister announced it who had arrived.

_"Kurt, Noah! Mai and Mav are here! The gay to straight ratio has officially gone up!"_

Puck breathed out a long, suffering sigh. He smirked as he heard Kurt's reply.

_"Good. Maybe now the party will be as fabulous as I hoped it to be."_

Puck went inside and up the stairs and walked into the kitchen, setting his sights on Kurt who was in the middle of a Mai and Mav hug sandwich.

"Happy birthday, Kurt!" They said in unison.

"Thank you, thank you. And thanks for coming! It's the usual crowd, of course, and our next door neighbor."

Mav raised one eyebrow in disbelief, "The crazy old man with the unibrow?"

Puck and Kurt shuddered. "No! God, no! New neighbor, actually. He went to school with me and Noah, way back when. Him and his son are here today."

Mai gasped, "You went to high school with him and he moved in next door? That's amazing! Every time I think New York is a big place, I hear some crazy story like this!"

"Crazier even, when you find out he was Kurt's first boyfriend," Sarah smirked as she mixed the lemonade in the pitcher. Puck glared at her.

"Get out!" Mai and Mav breathed together, before Mav burst into laughter.

"This is so freaking awesome!"

"What's so freaking awesome?" Blaine asked distractedly as he brought the cake in from the living room. "Also, Puck, did you really have to make the target of their scavenger hunt the cake? This is the third time I had to move it!"

Kurt ignored him, "Mai, Mav, this is the friend we were just talking about, Blaine. Blaine, this is Mai and Mav. They're friends of ours. They used to work at the club that Noah worked at."

Blaine smiled and offered his hand, "It's so nice to meet you. Wait, you worked at the club? Were you there the first night Puck and Kurt ran into each other again?"

The women burst into hysterical laughter, clutching at each other at the memory. Kurt bore holes into the top of Blaine's head as Blaine smiled innocently. Puck shoved a carrot into his mouth to prevent his laughter, knowing full well that Kurt would make him regret it.

"I swear to God, I will strike all of you down if you bring up that night again. Also, as far as my dad is concerned, Noah and I ran into each other in a café. That's it." He stared them all down before turning in the direction of the stairs, calling out, "Ziva! Your favorite lesbians are here!"

Mai clapped her hands together, "We're her favorite lesbians?"

"Works out well. She's our favorite uterine parasite," Mav said as she placed Kurt's present on the dining room table.

Blaine blanched and Puck lost it. He nearly choked on the carrot as he cracked up, both at Mav's comment and at Blaine's reaction to it.

Kurt waved his hand dismissively, "Don't mind her. She's actually smarter and classier than she first appears."

"Love you, too, Hummel."

Mai opened her mouth to no doubt reprimand her girlfriend and defend her in the same breath, but something else entirely came out when she saw Ziva running up the stairs, "Ziva! How's my favorite speed-demon?"

"Mai! You're here! You can meet my new friend Xander! And you met Sasha before!" Ziva's dress had somehow survived the day of running and burrowing everywhere. Kurt had chosen it. It was the same forest green as her eyes, making them seem even larger than they already were. Must be how she pulled off the innocent look with a slingshot hid behind her back.

"What if we don't want to meet your new friend?" Mav hands were on her hips, looking down at Ziva with mock-challenge.

Puck grinned as a confused expression made its way on his daughter's face, "But why wouldn't you? Is it because you don't like boys? That's okay!"

Blaine clapped a hand over his mouth, but the sound of his laughter reached Puck's ears anyway. Mav's effort to maintain a straight face was apparent, but even she couldn't hold it when Mai buried her face in her back, shaking with laughter.

"Come here, you adorable brat!"

"No!" she shrieked, running away. Mav followed her, hands opening and closing in grabbing motions. Mai smiled after them, turning to Puck, Kurt, Sarah and Blaine with raised eyebrows.

"Sometimes I wonder about that one."

Kurt handed her a glass of lemonade, "Vodka's that way if you want or need it. My parents, Finn, and Mercedes should be here any minute. They're staying at Blaine's and were just settling in."

Mai gratefully accepted the drink, "So what are you up to for the summer, Sarah? Finish the school year alright?"

"As well as possible when you have Mercedes for a professor. I'm actually spending the summer at Wes doing research. Finn and 'Cedes are letting me stay with them in Middletown in exchange for free babysitting. And they're letting me use their car on weekends, so I thought I'd come into the city from time to time."

Puck's ears perked, "To visit us, right, Sarbear?"

Sarah deliberately busied herself by putting the cloth napkins through napkins rings, "Sure, Noah. I'll visit sometime."

Puck's temper rose, "You're still seeing him?"

Kurt winced and shared a look of despair with Mai. "Yes, I'm still seeing him, Noah! Don't act like he's some sort of delinquent. He's in his second year at Columbia Med, for God's sake!"

"Exactly! And you're a junior in college! He dated a freshman as a senior, do you know what kind of guy that makes him?"

Sarah threw down the napkin she was folding, "We were in the same lab, okay? It doesn't matter how old he is, Noah! I'm so tired of having this discussion with you. I'm a grown woman and I can see whoever I want, _especially _if he's a good guy."

"Look, at your age, I was—"

"A father." Kurt, Mai, and Blaine gasped. Puck's throat went dry, his mouth gaped open. "You got Quinn pregnant when you were sixteen. I learned from that, okay? Am I a virgin? No. Did my first time happen with someone I love? Yes. You can't really say the same, can you?" With that, she stormed past Kurt and Mai. Puck heard the front door open and slam shut, but he was paralyzed, gripping the edge of the kitchen island in a death grip.

The air was heavy with tension, broken only when Kurt moved to squeeze Puck's upper arm in a supportive way, "I'll go after her." He left.

"I'm going to find Mav and meet Xander," Mai said quietly, patting Puck on the shoulder once before she left him and Blaine.

"Puck." Puck looked up from where he was staring at the countertop. Blaine was making his way over to him, eyes pitying. "She didn't mean it."

Puck laughed derisively, "Which part? The part about learning from the fact that her older brother was a womanizing jackass or the part about her not being a virgin? Because I'm pretty sure both are true."

Blaine frowned, "You were never a womanizing jackass and it doesn't really matter if she's a virgin or not, Puck. Look at us! We both lost our virginities in high school. If she really did wait until college when she was ready, it's that something to be proud of?"

"Middle school." The two words killed Puck to say, but they were out there now. "I lost my virginity in middle school to one of Sarah's babysitters. Like a slut. You think I'm angry at her having sex? I'm pissed at myself for acting like her father when I've never set a good example for her!" He slammed a fist down on the countertop. "Fuck!"

"Calm down!" Blaine placed his hand on top of Puck's clenched fist, "Calm down, Puck. Look, you've made mistakes. We _all_ have. But does that mean you can't act like a parent to your younger sister? Of course not! Just look at Ziva! She's a happy, healthy, incredibly intelligent little girl."

Puck snorted, "No thanks to me."

"If Kurt heard that, you know he'd bitchslap you from here to next Tuesday, right?"

The corners of Puck's mouth rose unintentionally at the image, "Yeah."

Blaine smiled, "Good. You're not completely lost. Now, I don't know why you're so hung up on Sarah's boyfriend, but if it's just the age thing, then you need reevaluate your feelings. Because making a big deal out of three years? You're fighting a losing battle."

Puck sighed, "It's not just the age thing. They got together her first semester and have been together for three years now. It's getting really serious, but he's only her first real boyfriend. I don't want her rushing into anything."

"Sometimes you get lucky with the first one," Blaine shrugged. "It wasn't the case for you and Kurt or me and my husband, but people get lucky. Besides, if they really have been together for this long, you can't really say they're rushing into anything. I don't know anything about the situation, but I do know when you yell at your sibling to do one thing, they'll do the exact opposite out of spite. Believe me, I'm the younger sibling." He grinned and Puck found himself grinning back.

"So what did you learn from your older sister?"

"Pink taffeta should never be attempted," he shuddered and the both of them laughed. Puck stopped at the sound of the front door opening again. Turning toward the entrance to the kitchen, he was relived when he saw Sarah standing there, one arm rubbing the other nervously.

"I'm sorry, Noah."

"Come here," Puck opened his arms and Sarah rushed into them, hugging his torso. He folded his arms around her. "I'm the one who's sorry, Sarah. I was a jackass. You're so much smarter than I was at your age, it's not my place to tell you what to do."

"I shouldn't have used Beth as a point in an argument." Puck really wished that it wasn't second nature for his breath to catch at the sound of her name, but it was something he had to work on. "And I should really invite Danny over for dinner so you can see for yourself that he's a great guy and not have to rely on my saying so."

"I trust you, Sarbear, but it would be nice to meet the guy that got you interested in Van Halen." Sarah flashed him a smile and he knew he was forgiven.

"Ugh," Kurt exclaimed from where he entered behind Sarah. "He likes Halen? Dump him, Sarah. Seriously. You'll never regret it."

"Hey, Noah? The next time you get married, can you marry someone who isn't an opinionated bitch?"

Blaine blanched again, but Kurt laughed as he threw a sponge at Sarah's head. "Ungrateful wench, you are."

"Baby, I was born this way!" She yelled as she ran upstairs. "And I have to get ready for the party, so no one go into Ziva's room, okay?"

"Never have I regretted Gaga's lyrics more," Kurt shook his head, but the grin on his face belied his feelings.

"Thanks for dealing with that, babe." Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, head falling on his shoulder.

Kurt placed one hand on his head, "I didn't do anything. Really."

"Thanks for nothing, then." Puck laughed at Blaine's affronted expression.

"How are the two of you still married? You're horrible to one another!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, "How are you surviving New York? You have no concept of sarcasm!"

"Touché, Kurt. Touché."

"Can we make the salad now, I'm starving!" Puck whined.

"Oh shut up and start chopping the tomatoes, you big baby."

"_Hey, guys?"_ The three men turned toward the stairs that led to the basement, where Mav's floated up to the kitchen. _"Should Ziva be climbing the bookcase and swinging from the light fixture?" _

Kurt raced out of the room and down the stairs, "What do _you_ think, Mav?"

Puck pointed the knife he was using at Blaine, who held up his hand in defense, "This is your fault, Anderson. No one climbs furniture like you do, you hobbit!"

Blaine grimaced, "You might be right."

"_Ziva, if you don't jump down right now, you'll be sent to your room for the rest of the day. No party and no cake!"_ Puck and Blaine paused, listening for more of Kurt in strict Papa-mode. _"Xander, I know your first inclination is to let Ziva do what ever she wants, but if one of you will get hurt, tell her no. It's good practice for the future, I promise. Mav, the same goes for you."_

Puck and Blaine hurried to look like they weren't listening when the sound of Kurt's footsteps coming up the stairs reached their ears. Blaine was reapplying a layer of frosting to the cake and Puck was chopping cucumbers when Kurt came in, shaking his head, "We might as well have four kids in this house right now. Now hurry up, I'm starving and it's my birthday."

* * *

Two hours later, Puck was clearing up the outdoor table. The food was delicious and the backyard looked great. Kurt's reaction to the outdoor kitchen was _priceless_. He squealed and jumped up and down, clapped excitedly. It took Puck right back to high school, when Kurt would get excited over the littlest of things. He jumped on Puck and thanked him with a deep kiss that only ended when Burt pulled them apart.

The barbeque went well. Everyone was fed and happy. Blaine was getting acquainted with Mai and Mav and Burt and Carol were having fun with their grandchildren. Ziva fed Sasha and was fed by Carol. Burt sat with Xander on his lap, chatting about Ziva's latest antics, the most apparent commonality between them. Kurt and Mercedes were discussing some fashion trend and Finn and Puck were giving Sarah tips about her next fantasy baseball game.

All in all, the dinner was a success and now it was time for Kurt to open presents before cake and coffee. After Puck and Kurt removed the plates, Puck sat Kurt down in the chair of honor and brought out the pile of presents for him to open.

Kurt oohed and aahhed appropriately as he opened his gifts. He laughed upon opening Sarah's gift. It was a Wesleyan sweatshirt. "Noah's always complaining about how you steal his, so I got you your own."

"I don't steal the sweatshirt because I _like_ it, Sarah." He winked devilishly at her and she squealed.

"Ew! Did I just help you get Noah laid? _Ew!"_ Puck laughed, but stopped abruptly at Burt's glare.

After opening Finn and Mercedes' gift ("Tickets to Rachel's new show? You shouldn't have! Really, you s—_ow_, Noah! I just kidding!") and thanking Mav and Mai profusely for the vintage Dolce and Gabana brooch they had given him, Kurt turned his attention toward Xander, who was walking to him, head hung in shyness.

"This is for you, Mr. Kurt." He revealed a small, brightly wrapped package from behind his back. He handed it to Kurt before running back to his father, climbing into Blaine's lap.

Kurt smiled at him and tore open the package, gasping as he saw what it was. Puck craned his neck from where he was sitting on the arm of Kurt's chair to get a better look.

It was a large multi-picture frame with four pictures of the Hummel-Puckermans. The first one was a picture of Puck and Kurt holding Ziva on the way home from the hospital. The next was one of Puck holding a chocolate-smeared faced two-year old Ziva with Kurt laughing in the background. The third was of the three of them dressed for Ziva's fourth Halloween. Ziva was Batgirl, Kurt Batman, and Puck Robin. The last one was of Puck and Kurt pushing a laughing Ziva on the swings in the park.

"It was his idea," Blaine explained. "He picked out the frame and the photos from the pile Puck gave us."

Kurt placed the gift on the table and walked over to where Xander was hiding his face in Blaine's neck. "Xander?" The boy looked up at him with wide hazel eyes. "This was the best birthday present I've ever gotten. Thank you."

Xander smiled shyly, "You're welcome." Kurt kissed his curls and walked back over to his chair.

"Hear that? You were all beaten by a six-year old." The adults cracked up and Ziva yelled above the din.

"See! I told you my best friend is the greatest!" With that, she went over to Xander and tugged at his arm until he climbed out of Blaine's lap. She went on to lead him to the garden, where her, Xander, and Sasha continued their game of Detective.

Burt fixed his ever-present ball cap before leaning forward and handing Kurt a manila envelope, "I can't really beat that, but be aware that this is only one part of mine and Carol's present."

"I hope you like it, Kurt." Kurt smiled, if confusedly, at Carol before opening the envelope and pulling out the sheet of paper that was in it. Puck leaned over.

It was a real-estate ad for a house in New Brunswick, New Jersey. "You bought us a house in Jersey?" Kurt's face was flabbergasted—much as Puck felt.

"Dad, I love you and this is a beautiful gesture, but I'm _not _moving to Jersey!" His tone was filled with disdain and Mercedes, Puck, Blaine, and Finn sniggered as Burt smirked.

"The house isn't for you, Kurt."

"Then whose is it—"

"It's ours. Mine and Carol's." His eyes—so much like Kurt's—were twinkling under the baseball cap and Puck fought for breath as he realized what was happening.

Kurt's eyes were wider than Puck has ever seen them, "You're moving to Jersey?"

"We're moving forty-minutes away, darling," Carol was smiling and it was infectious as Finn and Kurt returned it.

"Mom, this is so cool!" Finn laughed.

"We figured that you and your brother live on the East Coast now, and that's not going to change and we're both tired of only seeing our grandchildren four times a year. Now we can see the both of you whenever we want. I already opened up a shop there and your Uncle Lennie is taking over the one in Lima. He's also renting out the house, so it stays in the family," Burt explained.

"But what about Mom?" Puck ran a hand down Kurt's back as the tense question left his mouth. He was thinking the same thing.

"Kiddo, your mom will always be there and, like I said, the house is still in the family. Lennie says that we're welcome to stay whenever and Puckerman's mom is still in Lima, so you'll be visiting her, too."

"He's got a point, babe," Puck whispered in Kurt's ear.

Kurt looked up, face serious before all traces of seriousness were erased with a sly grin, "So, what's the second part of my present?"

Burt and Carol laughed, "Well, we're hiring you to decorate it."

"Yes! A chance to bring classy to Jersey! This is exciting!" Kurt fist pumped the air and Blaine and Finn shared a look. "Ziva, Sasha! Come look at what Grandpa got me for my birthday!"

Ziva looked up from her game and ran to her father, Sasha toddling behind her. Xander followed at a more confined pace. Ziva climbed into Kurt's lap and Puck picked up Sasha. Xander looked at the paper in Kurt's hand from his place by Blaine.

"What did you get, Papa?"

"Your Grandpa and Grandma bought a house in New Jersey. They're going to be living close by, so you can see them every weekend!"

"NO!" Puck reeled back the force of Ziva's cry. "NO, YOU CAN'T!"

Kurt stared in shock at his hysterical daughter, "Ziva, what's wrong?" The rest of the adults looked on in worry.

Ziva didn't answer Kurt, choosing to jump out of his lap and into Burt's, crying as she hugged him.

"Zi, tell Grandpa what's wrong." Burt rubbed her shaking back and whispered to her.

"YOU CAN'T MOVE TO JERSEY, YOU'RE NOT A DEGENERATE!"

Puck, who had been looking at Finn, Blaine and Mercedes, watched as everyone's eyes widened impossibly.

Mav broke the dam. She fell out of her chair, laughing so hard, she wasn't making any noise. Hysterical giggles traveled up Puck's body until the spilled out. Within a second, the entire backyard, save for the kids and Kurt, was choking on laughter.

"WHAT'S SO FUNNY?" Ziva yelled, tears still running down her now furious face.

"Aw, baby, they're laughing at me, not you," Kurt sighed. "I made a mistake. It's not only degenerates that live in New Jersey, I promise. I was just being mean."

Ziva's nostrils flared in a manner so much like Kurt, Puck laughed harder. Blaine's face was buried in his arm on the tabletop and Mercedes kept trying to stop, but she couldn't manage it.

"Grown ups are crazy," Ziva declared, jumping out of her Grandpa's lap and storming inside. Xander, who was so confused, ran after her, pausing only to hold the door open for Sasha, who had followed him.

It took everyone some time to collect themselves, Ziva's storm out not doing anything to alleviate their mirth.

Blaine was wiping tears away, "So Ziva is definitely Kurt's child. Good, I was worried for a while there."

Mai raised her glass, "To Kurt and his outstanding fatherhood!"

"To Kurt!" the rest toasted much to Kurt's chagrin.

Kurt pouted, "You guys suck."

Puck kissed his cheek, "Only when you want me to." He ducked at the last second to avoid the apple Burt hurled at him.

It was the best birthday they've had in a while.


End file.
